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THIS IS THE STORY OF THE 
LEGACY AS WRITTEN BY |? 
•^^ELBERT HUBBARD AND 
PRINTED AT THE ROYCROFT 
PRINTING SHOP THAT IS IN 
EAST AURORA, NEW YORK. 
MDCCCXCVI. 



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Copyright 1896 

by 

The Roycroft Printing Shop 



THE LEGACY. 



I. 

GREAT men often marry common- 
place women. 

Of course we could reverse the 
statement and it would hold equally true ; 
but to start our story let us concede the 
simple fact as first stated. Perhaps one 
cause of this inequality is that the execu- 
tive functions of love-making are best car- 
ried out by people of shallow feeling. So 
mediocre women sometimes show rare 
skill in courtship and often succeed in 
bagging big game. But even then all is 
not lost, for fate is kind and the law of 
compensation never rests. 

Xantippe lives in history only because 
she made things warm for a great philos- 



B I 



opher. No doubt she was severely tried, 
but if she had possessed only a fawning 
and servile admiration for her lord, with- 
out being fully able to appreciate his in- 
tellect, she doubtless would have diluted 
the quality of his genius so that neither 
Mr. nor Mrs. Socrates would have been 
known to posterity. 

The author of T/ie Contrat Social had 
a helpmeet who could neither read nor 
write, and the fact that any one had these 
gifts was no special recommendation to 
her. Goethe referred to his wife as a 
convenient loaf of brown bread. Hein- 
rich Heine, who set all Europe on a grin 
whenever he took up his pen, wrote to 
his mother that his wife did not know 
German and never would, and that when- 
ever he read his manuscript to her she 
would make faces and beg of him to go 
play with the dog. 

If you happen to be a genius it will not 
necessarily be fatal to your inspiration if 
you succeed in winning the love of a 
groundling. Female groundlings often 



make excellent housekeepers ; male 
groundlings good providers. But if your 
groundling is not of the pure type and 
should greatly admire your intellectual 
output, you will probably adapt your 
future production to the groundling un- 
derstanding, and at that moment you be- 
gin to die at the top. 

Professor Wilson of Harvard Univer- 
sity purchased his ticket in Hfe's matri- 
monial Louisiana scheme when in his 
forty-first year. He drew a blank, an 
animated blank to be sure, but a blank. 

But he who draws a blank is more to 
be envied than he who draws a small 
prize which turns his head. 

Mrs. Wilson had no sympathy for her 
liege's work, so he never lowered his ideal 
on her account. She sewed on his but- 
tons, laid out his clean shirts and ever had 
meals exactly on time. The Professor 
was not always prompt during his early 
years of connubial endurance, but a few 
cold lunches brought him a realizing 
sense that he had elected a dictator and 



t^t feegocg. 

lived under a gynocracy. And all this 
inculcated into his large brain a slight 
idea of system, a thing of which he was 
greatly in need. 

Mrs. Wilson was a rare good house- 
keeper. So excellent in fact that she 
usually quarreled with the maid very 
shortly, and for many months together 
she used to do her own work. She 
doubtless got much honest satisfaction 
from these duties, and she also got much 
satisfaction by rehearsing her servant girl 
problem to the Professor in a high 
pitched, scolding key. The Professor 
heard, but did not heed. He was think- 
ing of the glories of science and he 
merely mechanically said, " Yes, yes ; 
too bad ; jes' so, jes* so," often at the 
wrong time. 

So the days turned to weeks, the weeks 
to months, the months to years. The 
years passed and Professor Wilson's hair 
was fast disappearing. His wife's was 
getting gray. The little house was paid 
for; the library shelves were filled with 



valuable books ; a snug sum was in the 
Savings Bank, and the life insurance pol- 
icy had matured in a fully-paid-up. 

Only one child had come to them, and 
every one said that Celeste Wilson was 
as near like her father as ever a daughter 
could be — only not quite so absent 
minded. She was the child of her father, 
it is true, but plus a woman's intuition, 
and this is no small matter. 

Preoccupied men who talk to them- 
selves, who seldom recognize their friends 
on the streets, and who bump into 
strangers, are usually righteous. Mortals 
who plot mischief, whose hearts are bit- 
terness and whose charity is small, are 
wide awake and alert to all that goes on ; 
they are intent on making a good impres- 
sion. You seldom catch a weasel in the 
arms of Morpheus ; the snake always 
sees you first, and the fox has his inward 
eye on a hen roost, not on a theory. 

Professor Wilson thought well of every- 
body — if he thought of them at all. He 
was free from guile. He had malice 



toward none. He was a man of vast 
learning, but he was ignorant of many 
things which average people know. He 
knew books ; but he did not know men. 
Graduating with high honors at his uni- 
versity, he became a tutor, then a teacher, 
then assistant professor, and then filled 
the chair of Biology for over twenty years 
in his Alma Mater. 

Of the great, seething, struggling mass 
of humanity he knew nothing. The world 
of strife and competition that sharpens 
the wits, inflames hate, excites suspicion, 
stirs up jealousy and thus produces that 
sly all 'round thing which we call the 
man-of-the-world, he knew not. Co- 
operation is god-like ; competition is 
devilish. His was the realm of co-oper- 
ation. And so Professor Wilson, as all 
university men know, was as good as he 
was great, as gentle as he was just and as 
ignorant as he was learned. 

And he was happy, happy as a man can 
possibly be; for he was submerged in 
work that he liked. He had the love of 



t^e feegac)?. 

his daughter, the esteem of the students, 
the respect of the faculty, and if his wife 
was faulty he did not think of it. 

All he desired was more knowledge of 
Biology. 

In the midst of this bhssful Nirvana, 
one fine morning came the postman with 
a registered letter ; a large blue envelope, 
it was, with curious marks and seals. He 
demanded that it should be receipted for 
by Professor Wilson in person. And this 
took the good man from the very midst 
of a long sentence and put to flight a fine 
hypothesis on protoplasm. And then 
Mrs. Wilson insisted on opening the let- 
ter at once, and having opened it, it must 
be read — all that long explanation and a 
copy of the will of a former pupil who 
stated that he was " of sound mind and 
did hereby bequeath, give, bestow, make 
over and present unto Chilo Wilson, my 
well beloved teacher, the sum of twenty 
thousand dollars, with interest, from the 
day of my death." Then there was a 
draft for the full amount of the legacy 



and a statement concerning various other 
bequests to other people. 

The Professor had been advised of the 
legacy some weeks before, but had neg- 
lected mentioning it to his wife and 
daughter, so it came upon them unex- 
pectedly. And it was a bit troublesome 
to the old gentleman to be broken in 
upon in this way, when there are only 
just twenty-four hours in every day, and 
never by any chance more. 

Then these two women talked of the 
matter at lunch and talked of it at dinner 
and then talked of it in the evening. And 
they compelled the Professor to talk of it 
too, for they had sent out for two finan- 
cial advisers who were coming at eight 
o'clock. 

And they came. 

And here is where the story begins. 



II. 

UNIVERSITY students may be 
divided into three general classes, 
namely, the Sports, the Boys, and 
the Grinds. 

Numerically, the Sports are the small- 
est division ; but what they lack in num- 
bers they often make up in noise. They 
wear raiment of the loudest pattern and 
neckties of many colors, and their ambi- 
tion is to do just as little work as possible 
and still get through. Two weeks before 
examination the Sport begins to grow 
anxious. But by the help of — say strong 
coffee, a tutor and much cramming, he 
generally passes the ordeal. Then he 
sheds his knowledge as the snake does 
its skin. 

There are fables about Sports who at- 
tend dances given by the Festive Six, and 
similar organizations, and who do honor 



to Bacchus all night, then go home, take 
a bath, a little seltzer and walk into class 
room and surprise everybody by the ex- 
tent of their insight and the depth of 
their erudition. 

But this kind of Sport, like the satyr, 
now lives only in song and legend. 

The Boys form the bulk of the students. 
If you are a student under nineteen you 
always refer to this class as " the Men," 
but the recorder of truth who pens these 
lines, being over nineteen, uses the term 
" Boys." 

The Boys are human. They wear a 
motly garb which affects the ultra-fashion- 
able. Russet shoes, white soft hats with 
staring black bands, trousers turned up 
at the bottom, side pockets with hands in 
them clear down out of sight, are now the 
vogue. They often smoke brier wood 
pipes on the street. They study at times, 
read each other's notes, " crib and cram 
for exam," and perspire freely when under 
fire in class room. Yet they usually have 
a modicum of ambition : they wish to 

lO 



get on. They have few enmities and 
many innocent pleasures, and some 
pleasures that are not so innocent. Their 
intent is honorable, their purpose 
graduation. 

The Boys shade off on one side into the 
Sports, on the other into the Grinds. In 
numbers the Grinds and the Sports are 
about the same, but you would never 
think so, for Brer' Grind he lay low. 

The Grind is the antithesis of the 
Sport, yet both come to college for the 
same reason : because they cannot help 
it. The Sports' parents are rich and they 
send him ; the Grinds' parents are poor, 
but an overweening thirst for knowledge 
brings him. 

The Grind often works his way by tak- 
ing care of horses, sifting ashes, shoveling 
snow and what not. He Hves in a garret, 
drinks vast quantities of tea, eats oatmeal, 
and " grinds " away the long hours of the 
night when he should be in bed. Some- 
times he turns out to be a Great Man and 
sometimes he doesn't. 

II 



^9e £egaci?. 

The pure type of Grind is most inter- 
esting. He is poor in purse but great in 
frontal development. He has a sallow 
skin, a watery blue eye, a shambling gait, 
stooping shoulders, but he has facts. His 
trousers are too short, his coat shiny, his 
collar soiled, his hands clammy. He 
reads a book as he walks the highway, 
and when he bumps into you he always 
exculpates himself in Attic Greek. 

This absent-mindedness and habit of 
reading on the street affords the Sport 
great opportunity for the playing of 
pranks. It is very funny to walk along 
in front of a Grind as he is reading and 
suddenly stoop and let him fall over you ; 
for the innocent Grind, thinking he is the 
offender, ever offers profuse apologies. 

Many years ago there was a Grind. A 
Party of Sports saw him approaching, 
deeply immersed in his Book. "Look 
you," quoth the Chief of the Sports, 
"Look you, and observe him fall over 
Me." And they looked. 

Onward blindly trudged the Grind, 

12 



reading as he came. The Sport stepped 
ahead of him, suddenly stooped, and — 
one big Foot of the Grind shot out and 
kicked him into the Gutter. Then the 
Grind continued his Walk and his Read- 
ing without saying a Word. This partic- 
ular Grind wore Cow Hide Boots, was 
tall, also angular and raw-boned ; he had 
been brought up on a Farm, and the 
Sports thought best to get Revenge by 
simply drawing a Picture of him on a 
Classroom Blackboard. 

This simple story is printed here for 
the edification of the Young, to teach 
them that things are not always what 
they seem. 

The financial advisers that had been 
sent for by Mrs. Wilson were students, 
both post-graduates. And be it known 
that post-graduates are of two classes : 
those who attend college to kill time and 
those who attend college for study. 

The name of one financial adviser was 
Joshua Johnson; never by any chance 
** Josh," but always Joshua, and that of 

13 



the other was Charles Sarony. Mr. John- 
son was a Grind ; Mr. Sarony a Sport. 

These are the men who came to Pro- 
fessor Wilson's that night. 

And here is where the story really 
begins. 



14 



III. 

EVERY sun has its satellites. Around 
the great central system swing the 
lesser planets. So around every 
man of genius circle his loyal admirers. 
Admiration and imitation being first 
cousins, we unconsciously become like 
that on which our thought is fixed. 

This truth is often very clearly shown 
in colleges where impressionable youth 
looks upon some certain professor as an 
ideal. Unwittingly the young man 
catches the trick of expression, the gait, 
manner and often the imperfections of 
his beloved teacher. And the lesser lum- 
inary gives out only the reflected light of 
the greater. 

Professor Wilson had no sons, after the 
flesh; he reproduced himself intellect- 
ually, which possibly is the better way. 

Perhaps the foster son who resembled 

15 



f 



^e feegoc^. 



him most was Joshua Johnson, aged 
twenty-four at the time of this story, a 
prizeman three times over and a Grind 
of the pure type. He was also an athlete ; 
and only once in every other leap year is 
there found a man in college who is both 
a Grind at books and also in the "gym." 

This young man had never shaved. 
Consequently he had a downy mustache 
and a silky beard. This adornment of 
nature was a beautiful nut-brown, as the 
writers of serial love stories would express 
it. However, it was not a whisker of 
which to be boastful, for it gave a sug- 
gestion of vealiness to Mr. Johnson, which 
really was not a part of his character. 

He was tall, lank, loose-jointed ; and 
ill-fitting clothes and a shuffling gait made 
him appear awkward. 

Mr. Johnson was the son of a farmer 
up in the hills of Maine. The elder 
Johnson tickled the rocky hillside in a 
breeches-buoy, but it did not always 
laugh a harvest. There were thirteen 
children in the family (the Johnsons were 

i6 



not superstitious) and it often took the 
united efforts of the entire family to keep 
several hungry wolves off the piazza. 

Joshua desired an education. So he 
attended the Httle red school house in 
winter and afterwards turned teacher 
himself. Then he saved his pennies and 
went to Phillips Exeter. By cutting wood 
and doing odd jobs he paid his way and 
graduated with honors ; then came the 
University. 

Young Johnson found work outside of 
study hours and he was willing to do it ; 
this supplied him necessary funds and in 
his studies he was always a success. 

Professor Wilson liked the youth so 
well that he made him monitor of his 
room and also gave him work at times 
about his house. Then when the Pro- 
fessor began his great work on Bacteria, 
Johnson was intrusted to make certain 
researches. So faithfully did he furnish 
his reports that Professor Wilson had him 
come to his library evenings. The in- 
timacy grew almost to affection on both 

17 



sides, and the college papers used to have 
sly skits about the " second edition of 
Wilson," but neither Professor Wilson 
nor Mr. Johnson ever saw the point to 
these jokes. But Celeste Wilson did, and 
she did not Hke them. She had a sense 
of humor which they did not possess, 
still these things did not make her laugh. 

On one occasion she requested Joshua 
to go up to the office of T/ie Crimson and 
chastise the editor. Mr. Johnson put on 
his hat and started off without a smile to 
do her bidding, and it took considerable 
persuasion to bring him back. It would 
have been a sorry day for that printery if 
he had reached it : for he certainly would 
have "pied" the whole editorial staff. 
Men of twenty-four, six feet one, brought 
up to work on a farm, might be danger- 
ous, especially so when obeying the or- 
ders of a pretty young woman. 

When Joshua spaded the Wilson gar- 
den. Celeste used to come out and super- 
intend. The young man admired the 
girl to within three points of idolatry, but 

i8 



$5e fee^acg. 

he never dare hint the fact to her. Yet 
he hugged a secret hope that some day — 
some day, he would be an assistant pro- 
fessor and then 

In the long winter evenings when the 
old gentleman and Mr. Johnson worked 
at the "Bacteria," the young woman 
would help about the classifications. On 
such occasions Mrs. Wilson would sit 
bolt upright and knit furiously, flinging 
off fierce fleers, glances of contempt and 
things toward the trio, 

" Why do you have him here in my 
house?" she would ask, after Mr. John- 
son had gone — " that uncouth, awkward 
simpleton — he belongs in a barn, not in a 
library ! " 

Then the Professor would try to ex- 
plain that Mr. Johnson had a very brill- 
iant mind and that some day he might 
take his place in the Chair of Biology. 
He was poor, of course, and had been 
deprived of certain advantages — he was 
of the kind that ripen slowly, etc., etc. 

The thing that troubled Mrs. Wilson 

19 



was the fear that the Tall, homely youth 
might get to thinking too much of her 
daughter. Perhaps she guessed the feel- 
ings of the young man from his shivers 
and starts, changes of color and stammer- 
ings. Mothers are naturally suspicious. 
And even mother-love is not always proof 
against jealousy or something. 

Then she knew a young man that was 
a young man, polite, gentlemanly, grace- 
ful, rich. She did not want to marry off 
her only child — not she — but then, if any- 
body was going to steal away her daugh- 
ter, Charles Sarony would be as unob- 
jectionable as any one ! 

Mrs. Wilson and Celeste met this ex- 
cellent young man once at a reception. 
He hired a carriage and took them home 
because Professor Wilson had forgotten 
them in the crush and trudged off alone. 
Mr. Sarony called occasionally, and twice 
he had taken the two ladies to the theatre. 
He sat between them and talked more to 
the elder one than to the younger, which 
surely showed diplomacy. 

20 



"Such a perfect gentleman, and his 
father a banker — I said, and his father a 
banker ! " often remarked Mrs. Wilson. 

But the daughter did not seem to hear. 

When that registered letter came, its 
contents created a great agitation in the 
feminine mind of the Wilson household. 

" I know what I'll do," said Mrs. Wil- 
son, " I'll just send for Mr. Sarony ; he is 
such a perfect gentleman, and his father 
is a banker — I said, and his father is a 
banker ! " 

"Would it not be better to have — to 
have some one else too," mildly suggested 
Celeste. 

" Why, who else is there? " 

" Mr. Johnson might come — he is very 
cautious, you know, and then Papa likes 
him." 

" What does he know about finance or 
what does your Pa know either ! Cau- 
tious is it ! they are both so cautious that 
they will never accomplish anything ; that 
is the trouble with 'em — I said, that is 
the trouble with 'em ! " 

21 



A bright idea here came to Mrs. Wilson 
— Get these two young men together — 
then Celeste could see by contrast what a 
homely, ignorant and awkward thing this 
Johnson was, and at the same time the 
brilliant intellect of Mr. Sarony could be 
displayed. 

" Very well, send for Mr. Johnson and 
Mr. Sarony. You write each at once, 
Celeste — tell them to come this evening, 
sure, on important business. Tonight at 
eight o'clock — I said, tonight at eight 
o'clock ! " 

So the notes were dispatched. 

Mr. Johnson arrived at half past seven. 
His ready made grey suit a trifle seedy, 
but well brushed. He was somewhat 
abashed, and his necktie was working 
around toward his left ear — but these are 
small matters. 

Mrs. Wilson explained that she had 
sent for Mr. Johnson on a most important 
piece of business, but the particulars could 
only be explained after the arrival of a 
banker who had been summoned. The 

22 



$^5^ &,CQCIC2* 



Professor and Mr. Johnson put in the 
time by verifying some experiments with 
the microscope. 

It was well after eight o'clock when the 
scrunch of wheels on the gravel was heard 
and Mr. Sarony stepped out of his car- 
riage. He made it a rule always to ar- 
rive a little late — it showed that he was 
full of business and then his entrance 
after the other guests created a bit of a 
flutter. He was in full evening dress — 
self possessed to a degree that he never 
was in the recitation room. 

The Professor was interested in a spec- 
imen that he had under the glass and was 
not inclined to stop scientific researches. 
Bur after several calls to order, the busi- 
ness of the evening was taken up. Mrs. 
Wilson elected herself Chairman and 
bluntly began by explaining that a former 
pupil of the Professor's had kindly died, 
and by his will left twenty thousand dol- 
lars to the Professor, and the money had 
arrived that morning. 

Mr. Johnson's jaw dropped, his blue 

23 



eyes stared, he actually gasped for breath ; 
he swallowed hard and then sat speech- 
less. Mr. Sarony was not surprised : leg- 
acies are nothing — that is, when only 
trivial amounts are involved. He walked 
carelessly over to the table and squinted 
at the slide under the glass and asked the 
Professor if it was a bacillus acidi lactici, 
or what? As he got no answer (still 
peering into the instrument) he inquired : 

" How much did you say, Mrs. Wilson ? " 

"Twenty thousand dollars — I said, 
twenty thousand dollars." 

" Oh ! a beautiful specimen this is." 

" And I want to consult you about how 
to invest it — you know the Professor is 
no manager." 

"Yes, I know." 

" And so we sent for you both," added 
Miss Celeste, nodding toward Mr. John- 
son. " Papa has so much else to think 
of, of course he does not trouble himself 
about finance." 

"Well, what shape is it in now?" 
asked Mr. Sarony, who had now satisfied 

24 



his scientific curiosity and had taken his 
seat. 

" A draft — what you call a New York 
draft. Papa, show the gentleman the 
draft — I said, show the gentleman the 
draft ! " remarked Mrs. Wilson. 

The Professor felt in several pockets, 
then stirred up the contents of sundry 
table draws. Then he rummaged in cer- 
tain pigeon holes of his desk. He stopped, 
perplexed : 

" Now, where did I put it? It was a 
long greenish piece of paper. Daughter, 
didn't you see it? " 

" What book were you reading this 
morning, papa? " 

" Why, the Darwin, I believe." 

The Darwin was pounced upon excit- 
edly by Mrs. Wilson and sure enough the 
long greenish bit of paper was found. 

" There — you see the kind of man he 
is ! " said the good woman to Mr. Sarony. 

Mr. Sarony smiled knowingly, adjusted 
his eye glasses with great deliberation 
and examined the draft. Then he 

25 



handed it back. All waited for his 
verdict. 

"It'sO. K." 

"Eh?" 

" It's good for twenty thousand plunks, 
less one fourth of one for exchange." 

" We do not exactly understand," said 
Mrs. Wilson. 

" Why, its good for the rocks — but it 
will cost you one-fourth of one per cent 
to collect : it is drawn on New York ! " 

" Oh, you mean it is payable in New 
York?" 

"That's about the size of it." 

" But I have no time to go to New 
York," peevishly put in the Professor. 

Mr. Sarony smiled wearily. 

" Why, papa — don't you know you do 
not have to go to New York, just deposit 
it here — you have had New York drafts 
before ! " 

" Oh, yes, of course ; I was thinking of 
something else." 

" Then draw checks on it — I said, 
draw checks on it. First thing, we need 

26 



a new house ; this is no kind of a resi- 
dence for a Professor — we should go into 
society more. I am sure that if the Pro- 
fessor would only spruce up he might yet 
be President of the University, or Dean 
anyway ; don't you think so, Mr. Sarony? " 

Mr. Sarony was a little doubtful about 
the presidency. It was not a question of 
merit, simply "pull," and very inferior 
men were often college presidents. But 
he was certain that Professor Wilson could 
be Dean — in fact he had heard his name 
mentioned in that connection. Mr. Sar- 
ony would himself look the ground over 
— it might take a little time — such mat- 
ters usually do — but it doubtless could be 
arranged. 

The good old Professor was growing 
nervous. He interrupted the young man. 

" But I am satisfied where I am. I do 
not want the deanship and you will oblige 
me greatly by never mentioning my name 
in that connection." 

" Why, of course if you do not want 
the promotion, that is another thing. 

27 



We will just let the matter rest there, but 
if at any time " 

"All I want now," broke in the Pro- 
fessor with much more decision than he 
was known to possess, " all I want now is 
to invest this money where it is safe and 
will bring in a fair rate of interest." 

" And won't we build a new house — I 
said, won't we build the house?" wailed 
Mrs. Wilson. 

Her question was disregarded. 

" Very well, I am thoroughly used to 
such matters — bond and mortgage is what 
you want, or gilt edge railroad stocks 
might be better — I'll write down to my 
father at New York and ask his advice." 

This deference to his father was a good 
stroke. College men who think their 
fathers can tell them anything useful are 
rare. The old Professor thought better of 
Mr. Sarony for this filial devotion. So it 
was decided just to let the long greenish 
bit of paper lie between the leaves of the 
Darwin until they heard from Sarony the 
Elder. 

28 



As for Johnson, he had not spoken a 
word. Twenty thousand dollars all con- 
centrated in a bit of paper ! it quite 
unnerved him. He knew every paradigm 
of the Greek verb, and much about phys- 
ical science, and all about the Aztecs and 
Incas, but this question of finance was 
very intricate — he was willing to let it 
alone. 

So the financial advisors departed. 

And here is where the interesting part 
of the story begins. 



2g 



IV. 

In two days there came this letter i 

SORONY & VAN SLYE, 

1 1 1 vVall street, 

bankers and brokers. 

Cable address ^'■Slye.'''' 

Dictated S. to G. B. 

New York, Feb. 4, 1890. 
Prof. Chilo Wilson: 

Dear Sir— We are informed by Charles Sar» 
ony of the legacy that has come to you* 
Understand that you desire to use funds to best 
advantage. Beg to congratulate you on wind* 
fall. If other arrangements have not been made 
will be pleased to have you open acc't with us. 
Will pay 5 per cent, on daily bal. and when we 
see good chance for investment will advise* 
Thanks for favors extended to our son. 
Yours truly, 

Sarony & Van Slye, 

Per S. 
P. S. Market flat just now. Can hardly tell 
which way cat will jump. Will send you daily 
Stock Bulletin. 

30 



There was a special delivery stamp on 
this letter, so it was brought by the mes- 
senger direct to the College. It found 
the Professor in his class room about to 
begin a series of experiments in Physics. 
He opened the missive and read it twice, 
then turned the sheet over and looked at 
the back. Then he examined the envel- 
ope and the array of stamps. Then he 
read the letter again. The class was 
getting quite interested in the proceed- 
ing, and when the monitor was beckoned 
to come forward the curiosity was at fever 
heat. Mr. Johnson read the letter and 
thought he understood it — all but that 
about the cat. The Professor had an 
antipathy toward cats, and it always made 
him nervous to be interrupted in his 
scientific work and so he lost his temper 
just a little : " Plague on 'em, what do 
we care about their cat? " 

"But the stock bulletin may explain 
when it comes — it is a live-stock bul- 
letin, I suppose — we may get some points 
on zoology." 



" Go to your seat, Mr. Johnson," said 
the Professor. 

The missive was deposited in the old- 
fashioned high hat that stood on the 
table and the lecture was begun. The 
Professor soon grew interested in his 
theme and all passed off well. 

The letter was forgotten until the old 
gentleman reached home, when he noticed 
it in his hat and gave it to his wife to 
read. Now, Mrs. Wilson had taught a 
" deestrick " school in her younger days 
and prided herself on good grammar. 
In fact, she was an adept in the " lower 
criticism ;" that is, the criticism of punc- 
tuation, the crossing of t's and dotting 
of i's. 

" Our son, our son is it — speaks of 
ours and then signs the firm name ! '" 

" But Mother," said the Professor, 
clutching at anything to stop quibble, 
" don't you see it is all right? it means 
'our son,' 'per S.' " 

This seeming error disposed of, Mrs. 
Wilson fell to admiring the letter. It 

32 



was plain and to the point. Business 
men have a literary style sometimes 
called the "Western Union" — they do 
not waste words. They were not anxious 
about the money either — deposit with 
them if you wished, otherwise no differ- 
ence. The allusion to the cat was too 
deep even for Mrs. Wilson, but as soon 
as Celeste read the letter she said, " Why 
they do not know whether the prices of 
stocks will go up or down, that's all." 

" Now, of course ; I knew that was what 
it meant all the time," chimed in the 
mother. 

Then the fact that the firm had a 
cable address was proof that they did 
business all over the world. Besides, no 
man in college spent more money than 
young Mr. Sarony, so his father must be 
rich. 

Mr. Charles Sarony and Mr. Joshua 
Johnson were again sent for. 

They came, and Mr. Sarony explained 
that if the draft was deposited with Sar- 
ony & Van Slye it would cost nothing for 

33 

BS 



$5e feegoc)?. 

collection and would always be subject to 
check. No one could draw it except on 
the signature of Professor Wilson, and if 
any investments were made it would 
never be unless with his special per- 
mission. 

Mr. Joshua Johnson twirled his thumbs, 
and said nothing, because there was 
nothing for him to say. 

And so the draft was duly sent for de- 
posit to the Banking House of Sarony & 
Van Slye (whose cable address was 
**Slye"),and there came back promptly 
by express, charges prepaid, a package 
containing the following : 

One check book. 

One pad of deposit tickets. 

One pad telegraph blanks. 

One private telegraph code. 

The last item is worthy of a remark or 
two. It was a beautiful little book with 
gilt edges and bound in flexible leather. 
It had a silver clasp or something that 
looked like silver, and appeared for all 
the world like a solemn little prayer book. 

34 



Celeste thought it a dainty volume and 
Mrs. Wilson quite raved over it. 

On the first page of this pretty book 
was a notice printed in red ink, that if it 
should be lost or stolen Sarony & Van 
Slye must be immediately notified by 
wire. 

" That is so they can send another," 
said Mrs. Wilson, " how very thoughtful 
of them." 

Then the two women fell to reading 
out of this little volume, but they could 
not exactly get the run of the story. It 
was just like a dictionary, only different. 
Instead of giving the meaning of words 
it gave something else. For instance, 
<* stickfast " meant today, " kite " meant 
one thousand, " mule " meant haste, 
" crawfish " meant dollars, " bottles " 
meant cancel, etc., etc. 

Following the express package came 
a letter requesting Professor Wilson to 
sign all telegrams, Quinn, and adding 
that where this signature was used all 
messages could be sent D. H. 

35 



These things rather annoyed the good 
Professor : it broke in on his scientific 
work sadly. It was all so hopelessly 
foolish and trivial. Why should he, at 
his time of life, call himself " Quinn " 
and send messages " D. H." — what in the 
name of Archimedes did they mean? He 
didn't propose to send them any mes- 
sages anyway. 

So Mrs. Wilson put on her bonnet and 
shawl and her lace mitts and went up to 
Matthews Hall, where Mr. Sarony had 
his apartments, to make inquiries about 
the meaning of D. H. and to ascertam if 
possible who this man Quinn was, 

Mr. Sarony was always a perfect gen- 
tleman. He greeted the good lady with 
great courtesy, as became her high station 
as helpmeet to a learned Professor. 

He explained that " D. H." stood for 
a Latin formula meaning gratis or with- 
out expense. The signing of the name 
** Quinn " to telegrams instead of the 
Professor's own name was a mere device to 
keep the telegraph operators from talking 

36 



about Professor Wilson's affairs — the 
messages could be sent to the office by a 
boy and then the gossips would know 
nothing about the transaction. 

But the name Quinn — could not some 
other be substituted? it was the name of 
the garbage man. Mr. Sarony thought a 
better sounding name could be chosen — 
he would see. As for the code it was 
simply to keep one's business to one's 
self. 

** Of course, I knew it all the time,'* 
said Mrs. Wilson, " but then I thought I 
would ask — I said, I thought I would 
ask ! " 

" To be sure," said the gracious Mr. 
Sarony. " I knew that you knew it all 
the time, and you know that I knew that 
you know ! " 

Then they had a real nice little visit — 
talking about the weather and things. 
And about a man Mr. Sarony knew who 
made a hundred thousand dollars in 
stocks in a year. Mr. Sarony promised 
that he would call often and he walked 

37 



t9^ feegoci?. 

with the lady, bareheaded, clear to the 
corner. After supper Mrs. Wilson sug- 
gested that the Professor memorize the 
code — he could easily do it — it was not 
nearly so hard as the Greek verb : 

" What does * stickfast ' mean. Pa?" 

"Yesterday," answered the pupil. 

"No, no, no; * to-day,' didn't I tell 
you ! " 

" Now ' measles?' " 

"'Measles ' means sell." 

"That's right; * bilious?'" 

" Oh, please don't, Mamma ; Papa is 
tired ; there is no need of trying to com- 
mit that thing to memory. We will 
probably never send a single message," 
explained Celeste. 

Then Mrs. Wilson started off on the 
story about Mr. Sarony's friend who made 
so much money in stocks. " Two hun- 
dred thousand in a year — starting on just 
twenty thousand dollars. He bought when 
things were low and sold when they were 
high. Sarony & Van Slye know when 
stocks are going to advance and they 

38 



telegraph their friends. If we make a 
hundred thousand we can have a beau- 
tiful residence and large grounds all laid 
out in flower beds Uke a botanical 
garden 1" 

The Professor squirmed in his chair. 

" But, mother, we must not be foolish. 
We have enough money now, and this 
house is good enough. People of our 
age should not change their habits of life. 
Celeste was born here. Let us stay and 
be content." 

" But then, don't you know, people who 
have money are much better thought of 
than those who have not ! Only last 
week you were telling of how you would 
endow the chair of Biology if you had the 
money ! '* 

** That's true, I did, I did, but specu- 
lating in stocks is not much better than 
gambling ! " 

" You need not speculate in stocks, 
Mr. Sarony says you can just buy wheat 
or corn when it is cheap and then when 
it goes up, sell it." 

39 



$5e Slcqoci^. 

"But we have no place to store com.'* 
" Sarony & Van Slye will keep it for 
you — they have an elevator — they will 
sell it for you and measure it out to the 
man themselves, and get his money for it 
so you will not be bothered." 

" Oh, now, Maria, you know the money 
is bringing five per cent interest ; is not 
that enough? I have important work to 
do, and must not have my mind troubled 
with business ! Let the money rest — 
some day Celeste may need it — she shall 
have it all. Come, daughter, dear, take 
the pen : let me dictate a thought to 
you — we must finish this chapter to- 
night. Now then : All tissue is cellular and 
has the power inherent in itself to add 
cell to cell. Under certain conditions 
these aggregations become " ^ ^ ^ 



40 



V. 



PEACE reigned after that draft had 
been sent away. The Professor's 
mind went back joyfully to that 
unfinished chapter on Diatoms and In- 
fusoria. Peace reigned : it reigned all 
one day and part of another. It was 
then ruthlessly deposed by a telegram 
which was handed to the Professor right 
in the midst of his morning lecture. 

Professor Wilson had about the same 
horror of a telegram that many hysterical 
ladies have of a mouse. 

The Professor was a thoroughly good 
man, but his nerves had been put to a 
severe strain during the past few days. 
His lecture was interrupted and the tele- 
gram was handed to him by the monitor 
with the information that the messenger 
was waiting without and wanted to know 
if there was an answer. 

41 



** The nodal cell is the lowest of the 
three and exists in every form of tissue, 
therefore" 

"What shall I tell the messenger?" 
said the monitor. 

" Tell him to go to the devil," replied 
the Professor, — " and as explained in my 
last lecture" 

Then he opened the envelope and read 
this message : 

D. H. Nite. 

N. Y., Feb. 9. 

To Prof Wilson 

gravel mouser haymow shoofly boots 

Slye. 

Naturally the sense of the communica- 
tion did not at once dawn on his mind. 
By the time he had read the message 
over four times and carefully examined 
the chirography on the envelope the lec- 
ture had taken wing. He tried to recall 
what he had said and what he intended 
to say, but all that came to him was 
*' gravel mouser haymow shoofly boots." 

42 



So he simply dismissed the class with the 
explanation that a message of great im- 
portance had come to him and its con- 
tents must have immediate attention. 

He put on his overcoat and started 
homeward without his hat. He ran a lit- 
tle at first, and this caused one facetious 
student to remark to another that Pro- 
fessor Wilson's brother must be dead. 
Then this student told another that the 
Professor's brother was dead — killed in a 
railroad wreck or something. One of the 
Boston evening papers contained a wood- 
cut of the Professor and announced that 
" The younger brother of Professor Chilo 
Wilson of Cambridge has been killed in a 
railroad collision. Full particulars will 
be given in our next edition." 

This is what is called a scoop. 

On the way home the Professor re- 
volved in his mind the probable import of 
the message. Either Van Slye had com- 
mitted suicide or old Mrs. Sarony had 
fallen down stairs and injured her spine. 
In any event the sad news must be 

43 



broken gently and tenderly to Charles 
Sarony. Mrs. Wilson was much surprised 
to see her husband at this time of day — 
much surprised to see him without his hat 
and much surprised to see him so red in 
the face, as if he had been walking rapidly. 
More than all she was surprised by the 
telegram that fluttered in his hand. 

*' Land sakes ! " She snatched the bit 
of yellow paper from his grasp and tried 
to read. 

" The code, mother ; the code, quick ! 
it is cipher ! " 

And so the code was brought out and 
the two gray heads were close together as 
Mr. and Mrs. Wilson leaned over the 
table and wrestled with the Httle book. 

Finally it was made out : " C B. & Q. 
is off. Good time to buy." 

This worthy couple were human ; nat- 
urally they were a bit resentful to think 
there had been no accident. 

" What do I care. Let C. B. & Q. go 
off as fast as they want, all three ; plague 
take 'em ! " 

44 



"But perhaps they are friends of 
young Mr. Sarony's," interposed the lady. 

So Mr. Sarony was sent for. When he 
was ushered into the presence of Pro- 
fessor Wilson he met with a polar 
reception. 

"Tell your father not to harass me 
with any more messages. If your friends 
X. Y. and Z. want to go on a journey, is 
that any reason why I should be both- 
ered? Just inform him that anything I 
wish to buy I can get right here just as 
cheap as in New York." 

Mr. Sarony was very patient. He ex- 
plained that C. B. & Q. were simply the 
initials of a great railroad company, and 
that the word "off" signified that the 
stock was low, so the suggestion was 
given that it was a good time to buy. 

" Of course, I knew it all the time — I 
said, I knew it all the time," remarked 
Mrs. Wilson. 

" Professor Wilson should not be pes- 
tered with these things — he has import- 
ant work to do — like Agassiz he has no 

45 



time to make money ; there are matters 
more vital than money making," said the 
diplomatic Sarony addressing the gallery. 
Then he explained that a great many tel- 
egrams were sent out, and that people 
were often glad to be informed of the 
fluctuations in the stock market, but Sar- 
ony & Van Slye should know better than 
to trouble the Professor of Biology with 
such themes. And then the gentlemanly 
Mr. Sarony withdrew, excusing himself 
for his seeming haste in thus tearing him- 
self away. The Wilsons excused him. 

Every day there came by mail the 
Stock Exchange Bulletin. A bulletin is 
quite interesting. There was no wit and 
humor column to this one, yet it pleased 
Mrs. Wilson to think that the great firm 
of Sarony & Van Slye, whose cable 
address was "Slye," should be so 
thoughtful about mailing it. She won- 
dered whether it was Mr. Sarony or Mr. 
Van Slye that directed the wrapper, and 
she concluded it must be the senior 
member of the firm, for the writing was 

46 



large and bold. It made one think of a 
great big rich man with a gold watch, a 
fob chain and a bunch of seals. Business 
men are so bluff and hearty. The Pro- 
fessor had no watch chain, only a tape 
that he wore around his neck and his 
watch was silver and open-faced at that, 
so it could not be shut with a snap. Then 
the Professor was pale and dyspeptic and 
his handwriting was cramped and small. 
This on the wrapper had a large, free and 
easy swing that betokened the successful 
man of affairs. 

Young Mr. Sarony called quite often. 

He explained to the ladies the mys- 
teries of the bulletin. " C. & A.'^ meant 
Chicago, Alton & St. Louis, " Lacka- 
wanna " was Delaware, Lackawanna & 
Western, " M. C." was Michigan Central. 

It was very interesting. 

Then one evening, to illustrate a point, 
he took the Bulletin of Feb. 9th. He ran 
his finger down the line to C. B. & Q, 
and asked Celeste to set down on a piece 
of paper the quotation for that day. She 

47 



did so. Then he found the quotation on 
the last Bulletin. She set that down 
above the other and subtracted and found 
the difference seven and a half cents. 
Then Mr. Sarony asked her to multiply 
five thousand by seven and a half. This 
she did and Mr. Sarony pointed the fig- 
ures off with his pencil and set a dollar 
mark before the sum. 

" Now suppose the Professor had fol- 
lowed the advice and bought five thou- 
sand shares of C. B. & Q. and then sold 
them to-day, his profit would have been 
exactly ;$3, 750.00 !" 

The ladies held up four hands in 
astonishment. 

*' Oh, why didn't he do it — I said, why 
didn't he do it ! " exclaimed the mother. 

Then Mr. Sarony showed the quota- 
tions on wheat and pointed out how it 
had declined. He figured on a pad, like 
a hghtning calculator, and proved that a 
thousand dollars invested in wheat a week 
before would have made the purchaser 
eleven hundred dollars. 

48 



" But you say wheat went down — you 
lose when the price falls ! " 

" Oh, no ; you simply buy short." 

It was very wonderful, this stock mar- 
ket miracle ! Mrs. Wilson could hardly 
comprehend how you made money if the 
price went up, and you often made still 
more if the price went down ; but Mr. 
Sarony was sure about it. It must be so. 

The next day after dinner Mrs. Wilson 
took the Bulletin for Feb. 9 th and i6th 
and showed her husband how C. B. & Q. 
had advanced. Then she showed him 
Mr. Sarony's figures. 

" Chilo Wilson, you have lost three 
thousand seven hundred and fifty dollars 
— more than your salary for a year — I 
said, more than your salary for a year ! " 
exclaimed the lady upbraidingly. 

The Professor was incredulous. 

Then Mrs. Wilson showed him how 
the money was just within his grasp, but 
as he failed to reach forth and take it, he 
of course had lost it. 

That evening Mr. Sarony called again. 

49 



Mrs. Wilson was very anxious to know 
more about the wonders of Wall Street. 
She wondered why miracles could only 
be wrought on one street and asked if it 
was a long street or a short street and 
were there street cars on it : and as Mr. 
Sarony knew all about Wall Street, and 
how fortunes were made, he unburdened 
his mind of the information : carefully 
concealing the fact that Wall Street is only 
httle bigger than an alley. 

" Now a thousand dollars buys you ten 
thousand bushels of wheat " 

" How so, when wheat is a dollar a 
bushel?" interrupted Celeste. 

" But you see, you put up a margin of 
ten cents a bushel " 

" Who supplies the rest? " 

*' Why, we do — Sarony & Van Slye — 
you put up a thousand dollars and that 
gets you ten thousand bushels, and if the 
price advances four cents, why, to-morrow 
you are four hundred dollars better off 
than you were to-day." 

" Four hundred dollars 11" 

50 



" Yes, Mrs, Wilson, that is what I said, 
just four hundred dollars. Wheat has 
been going down point by point for a 
month. I had a telegram from the Gov- 
ernor to-day that it had touched rock- 
bottom. To-morrow there will be an ad- 
vance — now you see ! " 

Next day, after dinner, Mrs. Wilson 
brought the subject up with her husband. 
He smiled indulgently as she explained 
how Sarony & Van Slye had so kindly 
offered to supply nine-tenths of the 
money. The Professor had to furnish 
only ten cents a bushel and if it went up 
four cents the Wilsons would make just 
four hundred dollars a day. 

" Maria, do you really want me to 
speculate in wheat? " 

** Why, no, not speculate, just buy it 
and then sell it again and make a lot of 
money." 

" You say Mr, Sarony knows it is going 
up?" 

" Yes, his fatlier is sure of it — he 
knows all about it, you know ! " 

SI 



" Wait until the Bulletin comes to- 
morrow and we shall see whether he is 
right." 

" If he is right will you try it just 
once — only a thousand dollars — you have 
twenty thousand in the bank, you know ; 
it really should be earning something?" 

" No, no — but still — well if Mr. Sarony 
is right and it does advance — yes, I'll give 
you just one hundred dollars to invest. 
If you lose it, it will teach you a lesson." 

The Professor had put on his hat and 
was about to start for the college. His 
wife tenderly took his arm and walked to 
the door. The old man kissed her and 
patted the withered cheek — he was not 
given to much demonstration ! She was 
pleased and he was pleased that she was 
pleased. For the moment he was feeling 
younger ; he twirled his cane as he walked 
toward Harvard Square, and even whis- 
tled a bar or two from an old love song 
that he thought had long since been 
forgotten. And here is where the excit- 
ing part of this story really begins. 

52 



VI. 

N' EXT morning Mrs. Wilson stood 
with a shawl over her head and 
waited for the postman. He 
seemed to be late ; but at last his grey 
uniform came in sight. He handed out 
the Bulletin and the eager hands of the 
woman tore off the wrapper. 

"Wheat I : 03 !" — yesterday it was 
only I : 01 — " Market firm." 

At lunch time Mrs. Wilson stood again 
at the gate with a shawl over her head. 
In one hand she held the Stock Exchange 
Bulletin that came yesterday, in the 
other, to-day's. 

Exultantly she showed the Professor 
the quotation. 

" There now, didn't I tell you Mr. 
Sarony knew it was going up? You 
wouldn't believe it, would you? what do 
you say to this ? See ! * One dollar 

S3 



three and firm.' You promised me the 
hundred dollars to invest if I proved to 
you that Mr. Sarony knew — no backing 
out now ! " 

The Professor was annoyed by this 
profuse and confident crowing. He had 
in fact forgotten his promise of the day 
before, but he drew the check and gave 
it to her. 

Mrs. Wilson had decided that she 
would rely entirely on the advice of Mr. 
Sarony about the investment. She sought 
him at his rooms without delay. He ad- 
vised immediate purchase of one thou- 
sand bushels at I : 04 or under, telegraph- 
ing the order. So the code was consulted 
and the order sent. 

The following morning the grey haired 
woman again stood with shawl over her 
head waiting for the postman. She was 
a little feverish and her hands trembled 
as she scanned the Bulletin page. 

" Wheat strong i ; 05 ! " 

She hastened to the college and 
called Mr. Sarony out of the recitation 

54 



room. He read the quotation and smiled 
knowingly. 

** 'Spose I write 'em to sell when she 
reaches i :o7 ? " suggested the Napoleon 
of Finance. 

" It may go still higher ! " 

** Yes, but it is uncertain." 

" Well, do as you think best." 

So the young man wrote an order to 
sell Mrs. Wilson's wheat when the market 
reached i : 07. The second day came a 
message to young Mr. Sarony saying they 
had sold at i : 07^ . Mr. Sarony did not 
take this telegram down to Mrs. Wilson's 
— it was too trivial a matter to look after 
personally. He sent it down by a boot- 
black. 

When Mrs. Wilson received a letter by 
next post from the great firm of Sarony 
& Van Slye her heart began to beat 
violently. She feared there must have 
been some mistake about the telegram — 
they had failed to sell and the market 
had gone down. 

" You open it, Celeste, you read it to 

55 



J^e £egac^. 

me — if it is bad news we must never tell 
Pa — I feel as if I was going to faint, oh 
my! " 

Celeste opened the envelope, un- 
folded the big sheet of letter paper and 
out there fell, fluttering to the floor, an 
oblong bit of paper. It was a check for 
^126.50 and this check was pink of a 
very pretty tint. The letter with the 
check merely mentioned that the wheat 
had been sold as ordered and proceeds 
were enclosed, less commissions. Then 
the great firm of Sarony & Van Slye 
(whose cable address was " Slye ") said 
that they would be much pleased to re- 
ceive Mrs. Wilson's further orders. 

The letter was laid on the Professor's 
plate at dinner time. He felt the aura 
of suppressed excitement before he saw 
the check and knew something was com- 
ing. 

" How much did you give me ? Chilo 
Wilson, answer me that ! I said, how 
much did you give me ! " 

Chilo Wilson admitted that it was 

56 



just one hundred dollars — no more and 
no less. 

" How much is that check on your 
plate?" 

Professor Wilson was forced to admit 
that it was ^i 26.50. He was further forced 
to admit that one hundred dollars de- 
ducted from one hundred and twenty-six 
dollars and fifty cents, left twenty-six dol- 
lars and fifty cents. 

" How long ago was it that you gave 
me that one hundred dollars? " 

There was no use of denying it, it was 
only five days before. 

Then another problem in arithmetic 
was presented to the Professor, namely : 
If one thousand dollars had been in- 
vested instead of one hundred how much 
would the profit have been? All proba- 
bilities pointed in the direction that the 
net sum made would have been ^265.00. 

" Now you just give me a check for 
^500.00 and I will make enough in a 
week to buy a new Axminster for the 
parlor." 

57 



" But, Mother, wouldn't it be better to 
take this check and buy the carpet? " 

"Yes, but this check is capital — one 
hundred dollars of it is — Mr. Sarony says 
we should never encroach on capital, but 
keep it active." 

" Well, we will see ! " 

So the matter rested. 

Mr. Sarony chanced to call that even- 
ing and of course there was only one 
subject for discussion. The Professor 
had work to do, but he was drawn into 
the conversation against his will. He 
was annoyed. 

"Do you advise my wife's investing 
five hundred dollars more?" he icily 
asked Mr. Sarony. 

" Oh no, not a dollar ; I was just say- 
ing that there was no certainty about the 

market now." 

» 

It came over Professor Wilson that 
possibly he had been doing Mr. Sarony 
an injustice. Evidently he was honest in 
this Wall Street business. The conver- 
sation turned to the uses of wealth. 



** Money in itself is not bad ; it all de- 
pends on how you use it. Now suppose 
I know a poor fellow whose heart is fixed 
on college and he has no money to take 
him, and I pay his way for a year to give 
him a start " 

" Excellent ! excellent ! " exclaimed 
the Professor. 

Then the subject of endowments was 
broached, and the name of several men 
who had given much to endow colleges, 
hospitals and libraries were mentioned. 

'* You know you would like nothing 
better than to endow the Chair of Biol- 
ogy? " said Mrs. Wilson. 

" Certainly, for the Faculty brought the 
matter up at the last meeting and one of 
them even suggested dropping it for 
economy's sake ; what a shame it would 
be, just for the lack of a few paltry dol- 
lars, to discontinue so valuable a course." 

And so the use of " means " was dis- 
cussed at length. Mr. Sarony took his 
departure and all voted that it had been 
a very pleasant evening. 

59 



It was more than a week before he 
called again. Then it was on business. 
He merely wished the Professor to know 
that a dollar or so could be made in corn 
without any trouble. His father had 
sent him a telegram and if he did not tell 
his dear friends, Professor and Mrs. Wil- 
son, he would feel he was derelict to duty. 
Of course it was their own matter — they 
must use their own judgment about in- 
vesting. 

" Is your father sure about the mar- 
ket?" 

Mr. Sarony made no answer, only 
looked at the lady, and a half smile of 
pity stole over his face. 

" How much should we invest do you 
think?" 

*' Oh, only a little — not a thousand — 
say five hundred. There is no use of 
being reckless, even if you are sure." 

The Professor drew the check for five 
hundred dollars. Two days passed. 

The market went down ; so did Mrs. 
Wilson's spirits. 

60 



" Corn lower," said the Bulletin. Mrs. 
Wilson was in the depths and Mr. Sarony 
not to be seen. 

Then there was a change — " The con- 
tinued backward spring has sent corn up 
six points in three days," announced the 
Bulletin. 

Young Mr. Sarony wired the firm to 
sell. They did so and then sent a mes- 
sage to Mrs. Wilson saying her profit was 
$81.62. 

The message was duly laid on the Pro- 
fessor's dinner plate. He had gotten 
used to finding things there now. The 
Bulletin was there every day and he had 
taken to scanning it. It was quite inter- 
esting to see how the prices moved up or 
down like the mercury in a thermometer. 

" ' On account of the continued back- 
ward spring.' How did your father 
know the spring would be backward? " 

" Employ meteorologists — don't you 
know ! " said young Mr. Sarony, in a 
matter of fact way, as he looked out of 
the window. 

61 



Professor Wilson did not know that 
bankers and brokers utilized science — it 
raised the " street " a bit in his estima- 
tion. 

Still he was not specially interested ; 
the thing his heart was in was the Bac- 
teria. He flatly told his wife so in the 
presence of Mr. Sarony and requested 
her to talk of something beside that mis- 
erable stock market. 

His blunt remark and gruff treatment 
of herself and the dear friend caused the 
good woman a weeping spell. 

As for Mr. Sarony he congratulated the 
Professor on his oneness of aim and 
prophesied that the " Bacteria " when 
published would become an authority in 
every University in the world. 

It must have been ten days before Mr. 
Sarony called on the Professor in his pri- 
vate room at the college and showed him 
a telegram just received from the elder 
Sarony. It read : " chance of lifetime 
better let professor wilson in on ground 
floor particulars by male." 

62 



$3e SieQaci^. 

Professor Wilson could not see the ob- 
ject of spelling his name without capitals, 
but the young man explained that this 
was merely the lack of education on part 
of the telegraph operator. 

The letter came and detailed that a 
pool was being formed to bull Erie and 
that five thousand dollars put in would 
probably double itself in a month. 

" You better not say anything to your 
wife about this — women do not under- 
stand these matters, you know." 

Professor Wilson agreed with this senti- 
ment — his estimate of the feminine in- 
tellect was low, for a man's opinion of 
women is determined by those with whom 
he is most intimate. He wasn't sure 
that men understood " these matters " 
either, but a desire had been in his heart 
for some time to endow the Chair of 
Biology, and here was " the chance of a 
lifetime." The elder Mr. Sarony said so 
and his judgment so far had been cor- 
rect. It is easy to draw a check. 
Professor Wilson drew one and young 

63 



Mr. Sarony promised to keep the matter 
a secret and attend to all details. 

Young Mr. Sarony kept the matter 
secret and he Hkewise attended to all 
details. 

And here is where the tragic part of 
the story begins. 



64 



VII. 

PROFESSOR WILSON was a genius. 
The wife of a genius often takes 
his fits of abstraction for stupidity, 
and having the man's interest at heart 
she endeavors to arouse him out of his 
lethargy by railing on him. Occasionally 
he awakens enough to rail back. And so 
it has become an axiom that genius is not 
domestic. 

Professor Wilson was now deeply in- 
tent on completing his book. Both he 
and Mr. Johnson would often work away 
until well after midnight. Loss of sleep 
does not tend to make mortals amiable 
and then there is that which is known as 
** literary irritability." Another thing 
that did not help the Professor's temper 
was the thought of that Wall Street in- 
vestment. To be led into such a thing 
by a mere boy ] It was only an impulse 

65 



and ever since he had drami that check 
his self respect had been less. 

Ihen my Lady Tongue was worse than 
ever. 

She never mentioned the stock market 
now-a-days. He thought it ahttle queer 
— but was glad she did not. He would 
not bring the theme up — not he. Yet he 
pondered over it a good deal. 

Mrs. Wilson reasoned with Talleyrand 
that language is given us to hide our 
thoughts. About the only subject that 
was in her mind was the stock market, so 
she never mentioned it. She talked of 
other things, for she was deep in buying 
and selling and constantly in communi- 
cation with Mr. Sarony. 

" No use of telling your husband — he 
doesn't understand these matters," said 
that worthy young gentleman. 

The lady agreed with him. 

Her husband had given her permission 
to keep that six hundred dollars and she 
had promised to put it in the Savings 
Bank. Instead, however, she gave it to 

66 



Mr. Sarony ; for with Mr. Sarony it would 
draw a much higher rate of interest. 

They bought wheat, then oats ; sold 
corn short and chased pork up the 
" street " and then down. Sometimes 
they lost, sometimes won. But recently 
the market "soured" on them, as Mr. 
Sarony expressed it, and losses were the 
rule. In fact the first profits made had 
disappeared and the capital had dwindled 
to less than two hundred dollars. 

Still Mr. Sarony was hopeful ; he was 
sure that a lucky strike would bring it all 
back. 

Meantime there came to Professor Wil- 
son mysterious letters about the pool that 
was booming Erie, ** It's all right — only 
taking a little more time than we thought. 
Plans have come out just as arranged, 
but not yet liquidated. Will write soon." 

But the days passed, and the expected 
letter of explanation did not come. In- 
stead there was a telegram saying : 
** have carried our point doubled invest- 
ment but all agreed to put in forty per 

67 



cent more to fully consummate sure 
thing." 

This was encouraging. 

All the other investors in the pool had 
agreed to put in forty per cent more to 
fully complete the scheme. Of course, as 
the others had paid up, Professor Wilson 
should, too. The amount invested would 
just double, that is Professor Wilson's seven 
thousand dollars would be returned to 
him with seven thousand more — all in a 
week. Young Mr. Sarony was very sure 
of this. 

The old gentleman was doubtful at 
first, but he soon caught some of the 
younger man's enthusiasm and the check 
for two thousand dollars was handed 
over. 

" It's only for a day or so," said young 
Mr. Sarony. " We will try Northwestern 
next, we must not have all of our eggs in 
one basket." 

But Professor Wilson thought best to 
wait. They were both feeling good. 
Seven thousand dollars profit in six 

68 



t^t £egacg4 

weeks ! A few such strikes and the chair 
of Biology could be endowed. Eureka ! 
or almost. 

Then a week went by, as weeks will to 
those who wait, but the expected liquida- 
tion did not materialize. 

The Professor found little peace at 
home. Something was troubling his 
wife : her hair seemed to be getting 
whiter, the face thinner, the features 
drawn. A difficult point had been reached 
in the chapter on Sport-life, but still both 
he and Mr. Johnson worked away. 

Meantime the Faculty held another 
monthly meeting and the subject of con- 
tinuing the chair of Biology was again 
brought up. The revenues of the college 
had been reduced in various ways and it 
was voted to discontinue several depart- 
ments, including Biology. This meant 
entire loss of salary to Professor Wilson. 

Still no word came from New York. 

It is hard for a frank and generous 
soul to keep a secret. A secret gnaws — 
the more you hug it the more you suffer. 

69 



The Professor was keeping his secret, 
Mrs. Wilson hers ; and being in the same 
house they each became aware that the 
other was holding something back. The 
daughter, too, felt the strained relation- 
ship. 

Celeste had always been her father's 
confidante — he exp)ained to her his 
hypotheses concerning animalculre and 
many matters that she could not fully 
comprehend. He also consulted her 
whenever he bought a new pair of trous- 
ers, but this investment in Wall Street 
was different. 

The confessional is a necessity for 
great souls and small ; and a point was 
now reached where this simple hearted 
man must talk with somebody. His love 
for his daughter was profound. Should 
he tell her? He concluded he would, 
but not until after he had consulted Mr. 
Johnson. 

So Mr. Johnson was summoned, the 
door was locked and Professor Wilson 
went over the matter in detail with his 

70 



favorite pupil. Mr. Johnson had pretty 
good sense on most points and his judg- 
ment perhaps was right this time : he be- 
lieved the Professor was being robbed. 
He told him so plainly, 

Mr. Sarony was sent for but could not 
be found. His room-mate said he had 
gone to New York to spend a week's va- 
cation but would be back in a few days. 
On Mr. Johnson's advice a telegram was 
sent Sarony & Van Slye demanding that 
they state plainly the condition of the 
Erie investment. 

An answer came back that if Professor 
Wilson would send one thousand dollars 
more the plans could be carried through 
as at first conceived. 

Mr. Johnson and the Professor were 
now positive that there was dishonesty 
abroad and that the best thing to do was 
to get the balance of Professor Wilson's 
deposit out of the hands of Sarony & Van 
Slye. So a check was signed and made 
payable to Joshua Johnson, and Mr. 
Johnson started for New York. 

71 



$9e £e<jaci?. 

He found Sarony & Van Slye's office 
on the fourth floor in a large block. The 
quarters were small but fairly well fitted 
up, yet it was not the great banking house 
that Mr. Johnson expected to see. 

On presenting his check at the counter 
it was received by a dapper young man 
who looked the visitor over with an air 
of amusement. Then he examined the 
check and was not so much amused. He 
went back and consulted with an older 
man, who was reading a newspaper, with 
his feet in the window, and this man was 
not amused at all. They conversed in an 
undertone for a minute or two and came 
forward together. 

" Is your name Johnson? " 

** Yes, Joshua Johnson." 

" Well, we do not know that." 

"Yes, but it is so, I'm of the Class of 
Eighty-one." 

" We don't care what class you are ; 
how do we know your name is Johnson? " 

At that moment Mr. Johnson caught 
sight of a face at a glass partition that 

72 



separated the principal room from a pri- 
vate office. The face peered out and 
suddenly dodged back. 

** There ! there's a man who knows 
me — he will identify me — Charles Sar- 
ony." 

The clerk went back to the private 
office and returned with the information 
that young Mr. Sarony was not there. 

*' You lie," shouted Johnson. 

His face was white and his stooping 
shoulders had suddenly become square 
and firm ; he showed the strength of a 
dozen such men as stood before him. 
His shambling gait disappeared as he 
slipped around the end of the counter, 
flinging aside the man, who attempted to 
stop him. Three steps brought him to 
the private office where in a corner 
crouched Charles Sarony. 

" Thief, my money — here is the check 
— my money ! " Four men stood about, 
hesitating before seizing the obstreperous 
intruder and ejecting him. 

Johnson faced them. 

73 



" Don't lay hands on me, gentlemen — 
I will kill the man who touches me — the 
money for this check is all I want ! " 

He waved the check aloft in his left 
hand, then slipped the paper into his 
pocket, and his great hands seized the 
back of a light chair. 

There was an instant of intense but sup- 
pressed excitement. Not a word was 
spoken. All felt quite sure that the chair 
would crash on the head of any man who 
moved forward, and none cared to touch 
the button that would explode the mine. 

Young Mr. Sarony broke the spell. 
Calmly lighting a cigarette he took a seat, 
blew the smoke through his nose and 
then said, " What's the use of raising 
such a devil of a row, Johnson, about a 
check — let's see the thmg ! " 

The check was passed over, but John- 
son's eyes still glared and he had a couch- 
ant look as if about to spring. 

Sarony handed the check back care- 
lessly — looked out of the window, tilted his 
hat over one eye. Then he blew out a 

74 



cloud of smoke and remarked to the 
elderly gentleman standing near : 

" It's all right, Gov'nor, I know this 
lunatic, he's Wilson's hired man, you'll 
have to give him the stuff ! " 

Then turning to Johnson, '* I say John- 
son, how's the boys?" 

But Johnson still glowered ; he refused 
to converse. Meanwhile young Mr. Sar- 
ony smoked, and the elder Sarony read 
the paper which he held upside down. 
The two other men were getting the cash 
together to meet the check. It evidently 
put them to their wits for they had to go 
out for a portion of it. At last the whole 
twelve thousand four hundred dollars was 
placed on the table in two brick shaped 
packages. Johnson endorsed the check 
and distributed the money through vari- 
ous pockets. 

"You'll get robbed before you get 
home," smiled young Mr. Sarony. 

The elder man found time to look up 
from his paper. " I say, you Whats- 
your-name, tell your boss that we are 

75 



sorry about that Erie deal ; it caught us 
for a hundred thousand — you know these 
things will happen ! " 

But Mr. Johnson was gone. 



76 



VIII. 

THE prediction that Mr. Johnson 
would get robbed did not hold 
true. He arrived home safely 
and made his way at once to Professor 
Wilson's. 

It was after ten o'clock, yet the lights 
were burning brightly — in fact one might 
have supposed that there was a reception 
in progress. Mr. Johnson's ring was not 
answered, so he walked in. There was 
no one to be seen in the library or par- 
lors. Coming from upstairs were sounds 
of hot argument, strife and suppressed 
excitement. 

The man listened. He took two steps 
up the stairs and stopped. 

" Take your hands off — I order you to 
be gone — this is my house, unhand me ! " 

Then came the noise of scuffling feet 
and the deep breathing of wrestling — a 

77 



woman's sobbing voice. Johnson was no 
coward. At a bound he reached the top 
of the stairway and stood for a single 
second at the door of the room. Two 
men were struggUng with Professor Wil- 
son. 

Johnson rushed forward, seized one of 
the men by the throat and with a quick 
trip and a whirl he sent the fellow spin- 
ning across the room where he fell with a 
crash against the wall. Johnson struck 
the other man with his fist, and then 
closed with him. Celeste Wilson rushed 
forward and endeavored to separate 
them. 

" O, Mr. Johnson — don't you see, it is 
the doctor — you must not — you must not, 
do you not see, it is the doctor?" 

Johnson's arms fell, his form relaxed — 
he staggered and leaned against the head 
board of the bed for support. 

" Forgive — forgive me, I thought they 
were robbers. But — I — I — I — I don't 
understand it ! " 

" Nor we either, Oh, Oh, Oh ! just 

78 



look at him ! " It was Mrs. Wilson who 
spoke and she pointed at her husband 
who sat quietly on the bed staring about. 

Johnson could not see anything wrong, 
except that the Professor's face was 
ghastly white, his eyes bloodshot^evi- 
dently he was very sick. Mr. Johnson 
tenderly took his hand and at the instant 
the sick man started up and threw his 
arms around his pupil's neck. 

" Save me, Johnson, save me, they are 
trying to tie my hands, save me ! " 

Johnson sat down and tried to quiet 
the man's fears but in vain — 

" They are brokers, bankers and brok- 
ers. They robbed me and now are try- 
ing to take me away to boom Erie — Don't 
let them do it, Johnson — save me, and 
those women, too, are against me — Drive 
them away Johnson — drive them away — 
I am president of the Erie, ch, ch, ch, 
ch, chuka, chuka, chuka, ding, ding 
whoooo — whoooo — ding, chuka, chuka, 
chuka. Don't put all your eggs in 
one basket. Take away the headlight, 

79 



Johnson, it blinds me, take it away, I 
say." 

The doctor who got the fall now came 
forward, his forehead bleeding from a 
bad gash. He was consulting with his 
colleague about what to do. The Pro- 
fessor was watching them and became 
more frantic than ever, begging Johnson 
to protect him. 

Mr. Johnson had the good sense to see 
that the presence of these two doctors, 
and the two crying women, was exasper- 
ating the patient. 

" I can manage him — leave the room, 
all of you, and I will put him to bed." 

They withdrew and Mr. Johnson 
turned the lights low and then explained 
that the enemy had withdrawn and that 
the Professor should go to bed. 

" I will stay right here all night, not a 
soul shall enter the room. I will be 
with you all the time." 

He bathed the old man's face in cool 
water, opened the windows and sat by 
the bedside holding the thin, bony hands ; 

80 



sat there until the stars stole to rest and 
the east was flushed with pink — until the 
sun came up and sent long streaks of 
light dancing into the room. 

During the night the patient had 
moaned and muttered in his sleep. He 
had tossed about and several times had 
tried to get up, but the pupil's strong 
arm restrained him, and his voice brought 
reassurance. 

When morning came the Professor was 
calm and rational yet he wished Johnson 
to stay with him. He still had some 
fever and complained of pain in the 
back of his head. He asked for his 
daughter and begged her to remain. 

The doctor came, but as soon as he en- 
tered the patient began staring wildly 
about. He addressed the physician as 
" Mr. Van Slye " and enquired about the 
stock market. When his wife appeared 
at the door he became strangely fearful 
and begged of Johnson to protect him at 
all hazards. 

All that day the pupil and daughter 

8i 



cared for the sick man. He wanted 
both near him all the time. He got up 
and looked out of the window ; if any 
passer-by glanced toward the house he 
was sure the person was a spy in the em- 
ploy of his enemies. A grocer's wagon 
stopped at the door, and the poor man 
quickly drew down the blinds, trembling 
with alarm. At times he would imagine 
he was running trains. 

*' I must boom Erie — ch, ch, ch, ch, 
ch, ch, ch — whooo — whoooo — ding, ding, 
chuka, chuka, chuka " 

Several of the neighbors came in to 
offer their services : among them young 
Mr. Sarony who had just returned from 
New York, dropped in to express his 
sympathy and offer his help in this time 
of sorrow. Every step was heard by the 
unfortunate man and commented on. 
They were after him but Johnson must 
stand by. 

All that day and the following night 
the faithful friend was with him. 

Finally by use of sedatives the man 

82 



was put to sleep and a consaltation of 
physicians was held. The decision was 
reached that he should be sent away to 
an asylum. 

Mr. Johnson asked if he could not go 
too, so as to take care of him. The 
doctors explained that this was impossi- 
ble — competent nurses were employed 
and friends of the patients were never 
allowed with them. In fact, an atten- 
dant from the asylum had been sent for 
and was now in the house to assist in get- 
ting the Professor away early the next 
raornin«r. 

Mr. Johnson was getting much worn 
from the constant excitement. He 
looked very haggard. Celeste begged 
him to go to his room and rest. At last 
he consented. It was late in the after- 
noon when Mr. Johnson went away. 

Night came on. 

Rain had been falling most of the day. 
Pools of water stood in the streets. The 
air was full of mist and fog. It would 
have been very dark had it not been for 



the flickering gas lamps that stood at 
infrequent distances along the street. 

The few belated pedestrians, with um- 
brellas, hurried homeward with thoughts 
fix'ed on cosy firesides. 

It was near eleven o'clock when a gray 
horse, attached to a light buggy was 
driven rapidly, splashing through the 
mud, towards Professor \Vilson's house. 
A neighbor who peered out through her 
window thought it must be the doctor. 
By the fluttering hght of the street lamp 
she saw him tie the horse. He let down 
the top of the buggy, lifted the whip 
from its socket and then set it back. 
Then he threw the robe forward on the 
dashboard. 

He was a tall man, thin but broad 
shouldered. Pie took off his overcoat, 
removed his gloves and tossed them with 
the coat upon the seat. Then he cast 
one more glance at the horse and buggy, 
unsnapped the hitch rein, snapped it 
again, and walked up the steps with a 
quick, nervous, determined tread. 

84 



He opened the door gently, stood an 
instant in the halhvay, and listened. 

Professor Wilson's voice could be 
heard pleading with his attendants. • 

Softly the man climbed the stairs. No 
one heard him when he entered the 
room. The first intimation they had of 
his presence was a wild, loud laugh fol- 
lowed with " Whooo — whoooo — ch, ch, 
ch, ch, chuka, chuka, chuka ! " 

The man who was endeavoring to hold 
Professor Wilson on the bed was Charles 
Sarony. He started in alarm and faced 
about. The tall man seized him, collar 
and elbow — gave him a quick jerk for- 
ward, brought him out of the room to 
the top of the landing, then turned, 
•caught him across his hip, like an ex- 
perienced wrestler, and flung him head- 
long down the stairway. The two other 
men who were in the room made their 
escape to the street by the back way, 
calling loudly for help. 

Meantime the intruder had wrapped 
the sick man in the bedclothes, took his 

8s 



t^c fecgacp. 

clothes that were on a chair, threw the 
limp form across his shoulder, and car- 
ried him down the stairs, out of the front 
door and seated him in the buggy. The 
snap that held the hitch rein to the bit 
was slipped and the man stepped into the 
^"ggy> j"st as Celeste Wilson rushed 
from the house and seized the horse by 
the bridle 

" They are mad — don't you see, it is 
Mr. Johnson and my father — they are 
madmen, both, help me — help, helj), 
help " 

Several men came running forward, 
one seized a wheel of the buggy and 
sought to overturn it — he nearly suc- 
ceeded. 

The whip sang through the murky air 
and wound with a savage crack under 
the horse's stifle. The affrighted animal 
made a wild bound forward. Still the 
girl kept her hold on the bridle — again 
the whip fell. The horse, now frantic 
with fear, lunged, his hoofs trod on the 
dress, carried the girl down under his 

86 



feet and the buggy gave a lurch as the 
wheels passed over her form. The horse 
and buggy with its occupants disappeared 
in the gloom. 

The sound of splashing hoof beats 
grew fainter and were lost. 

Then there was only darkness and the 
soft falling rain. 



87 



BOOK II 



I. 

ALL successful lives take a zigzag 
course. Rattlesnake Pete had 
been a relay rider on the Pony 
Express, had driven stage coach, fought 
Indians, struck pay gravel, gambled away 
his fortune and then turned plain cow 
puncher. 

For a time he ran the Fort Dodge 
trail; he was then elected sheriff of 
Kewakee County, and when the county 
seat was at Red Gulch it was he who 
took charge of the posse that repulsed 
the mob from the rival town of Windy City. 
Both places claimed the county seat but 
Pete saved the day, and also the hook 
on which the records were filed. 

If this had happened in England a few 
hundred years ago the Rattlesnake would 
have been made a baron, and his descend- 
ants would have belonged to the nobility. 

91 



^9e £egacg. 

However we are straying, for Rattle- 
snake Pete had no descendants ; instead 
of adding to the population he reduced 
it. There were six notches cut in the 
butt of his pistol. 

Yet it must not be imagined that Pete 
was a Bad Man, he was not even a bad 
man. There was more good in him than 
evil, so we should call him good. How- 
beit he was not pious, for he sometimes 
swore, although when he did the origin- 
ality and uniqueness of the oaths were 
worthy of admiration. He was amiable, 
kind, generous ; and truthful, except in 
regard to history and here it was memory 
lapsed not intent. 

If you were a stranger and chanced to 
call at Pete's cabin he would have taken 
you in, warmed you, clothed you, fed 
you, and he would have felt insulted had 
you offered to pay. If you had fallen 
among thieves, been beaten sore, and 
left by the roadside half dead, and Pete 
had chanced to pass that way he would 
have stopped, bound your Wounds, set 

92 



you on his own beast and taken you to a 
place of safety. Then he would have 
gotten a posse and gone in hot pursuit of 
your enemy ; thus not only acting the 
part of the good Samaritan but seeing 
his bluff and going him one better. 

Pete reverenced the memory of his 
mother — two of the notches had been 
cut on her account — he likewise at rare 
intervals spoke with feeling of *' a gal 
what died years ago in Arkansaw." At 
such times he wpuld sigh and " suthin* 
would git in his eye." Yet he was no 
saint, for he chewed tobacco and occa- 
sionally used stimulants to excess, as the 
Life Insurance Companies express it, and 
as before hinted his vocabulary contained 
several words not found in the Standard 
Dictionary. 

Rattlesnake Pete was getting old. It 
would have done no good to have asked 
how old, for he did not know and likely 
as not would have told you thirty on the 
fourth day of last June. For he was 
often painfully exact in his statements, as 

93 



men are apt to be who talk at random. 
But about his age — he was n't sixty, and 
then what if he was ! Yet a painstaking 
person with a passion for facts might 
have figured out from Pete's accounts of 
certain fights in which he had taken part, 
that this man with the hat band of rattle- 
snake tails, was getting along in years : 
especially so, in view of the fact that 
many of those Indian fights occurred 
upwards of a hundred years ago. 

But we will let that pass. 

Bullets and arrows, knives and clubs, 
teeth and claws, hoofs and horns had left 
marks pretty much all over Pete's anat- 
omy. And now time was adding to the 
scars on his face ; and rheumatism was 
stiffening his legs (just a little). Wind, 
sun and whiskey had rumed his com- 
plexion long before. Yet Pete's heart 
was not seared — he had no quarrel with 
the world — he was still one of " the 
boys " and he wore his big white som- 
brero jauntily cocked over one eye and 
was quite particular about the blue flannel 

94 



shirt with its red stars on the bosom. 
He wore his hair long, his boots high and 
he scorned suspenders. 

Pete's earth journey had been a tumul- 
tuous one. He had met many men, 
good and bad ; a few women — mostly 
bad — but through it all he had retained 
his faith in humanity. If a man told him a 
thing it was as though it had been printed 
in the Sun. And if Pete told you he 
would stand by you — believe it. 

He had been chosen a Justice of the 
Peace, but the duties of the office were 
only nominal. And this was well, for 
down deep in his heart Pete preferred 
strife to peace. 

On a certain beautiful May morning, in 
Dead Horse City, Rattlesnake Pete sat 
on a beer keg, out in front of the Silver 
Spur Saloon. The nights are cool there 
in the mountains, but in the daytime the 
sun comes out warm and gracious. Pete 
sat there, blinking in the grateful rays, 
dreaming of old days before these pip- 
ing times of peace had ruined business. 

95 



He chanced to look up and he saw some- 
thing that gave him quite a start : two 
tenderfeet — one an old gentleman in 
solemn black ; the other younger, tall, 
angular, plain, long-armed. 

They were looking about curiously, 
anxiously, in fact. 

" Mornin', gents," said Pete. 

"Ah ! good morning, sir." 

The two men stopped and consulted 
in a whisper for an instant : " We are 
looking for a certain individual by the 
name of Snake — Mr. Snake," said the 
younger. 

" Well, pardner, you put 'er a leetle 
queer but I reckon I git your drift. 
'Taint Rattlesnake Pete you want meb- 
be?" 

" Why yes, Peter R. Snake, I wrote it 
down ! the landlord, 1 believe, said his 
intimate friends call him by the cogno- 
men you suggest — Where can we see 
him?" 

" Right here, gents," said Pete as he 
tapped the stars on his flannel shirt front, 

96 



"set down," and he motioned to a couple 
of beer kegs. 

" No, no, we want to see you on very- 
special business — we arrived late last 
night and were recommended to you. 
We want an honest, reliable man to help 
us." 

" Wall, I haint so very dam honest — 
Nothin' wrong I hope, gents ! " 

" Wrong ! yes, Mr. Snake, everything 
is wrong — there are enemies after us." 

The stranger's voice v/as earnest, his 
manner full of suppressed feeling. 

Pete's hand went to his right hip. 

" The boys haven't been botherin' 
you? " 

" No, not boys — men, wicked, design- 
ing, base men." 

Pete was now thoroughly aroused. 
These strangers had come to him for 
protection — there must be fair play. 
With his hand on the butt of his pistol 
he sidled out into the middle of the road, 
so as to command a full view. He 
looked up the street and down — a few 

97 



stragglers walking about, a mule train in 
the distance struggling up the trail. The 
enemy was not in sight. 

** Where be the goddam rogues, pard- 
ner, we'll make 'em show their hands." 

Pete turned around twice, still on the 
look out, expecting every moment a bul- 
let would come whizzing past. 

" I do not think they have arrived yet 
— but they are on our track : we will not 
be safe until we get a full hundred miles 
from any railroad — You must take us into 
the mountains, where they can not find 
us." 

** Will they git here to-day, think 
you? " 

"Yes, to-night, sure. We have heard 
them calling over the rails to us this 
morning. You know all railroads touch 
each other, so there is a regular network 
of steel over the whole country. These 
thieves — bankers and brokers they are — 
keep caUing to us over these rails which 
you know are charged with electricity. 
We hear the voices all the time. As 

98 



this is the terminus of the railroad the 
shouting at us here is worse than ever ! " 

"And they be callin' of you bad 
names? Why in tarnashun don't they 
come out like men and show themselves 
— what is it they say?" 

« Bull Erie— Bull Erie— ch— ch— ch— 
ch — chuka, chuka, Bull Erie ! " 

" What's that — they air in the cattle 
biz, air they? " 

" No, no, no, in the railroad business. 
You see Professor Wilson here is a mag- 
nate — what you call a magnate, owns 
most of the Erie, all of the C. B. & Q., 
and half of the Lackawana. They are 
all after him ; they caught him once and 
tied him with straps to carry him off, but 
I rescued him. Now we must get just 
one hundred miles away from any rail- 
road and then they will let us alone. 
You must take us, we can pay you well. 
Will you do it?" 

Pete scratched his head ; he could not 
make it out — this about the railroads. 
All he understood was that these men 

99 



were in trouble. He looked at them in 
perplexity. Either man was taller than 
he ; they were gentlemanly, civil, yet 
their pale, earnest faces spoke of distress 
as they stood there waiting for his answer. 
Pete's sympathies were touched — yet it 
would take money to buy a camping out- 
fit, and there must be provisions bought 
and this would mean a pack burro or two. 

" Will these dosh bing scoundrels that 
are after you git here to-day? " 

" Yes." 

'' Wall, less fight 'em right here — I kin 
git the boys together an' we kin stand 
'em off. It will take a lot o' money to 
go into the mountings a hundred mile. 
We 'ort to have a horse apiece and a 
couple o' jack rabbits to carry the camp- 
in' outfit an' grub. It will take five 
hundred dollars ! " 

*' Oh, we have money, look at this ! " 

The younger man drew from an inside 
pocket a green package, fully two inches 
thick. "We will pay all expenses and 
give you a salary of $ioo a mOiUh." 

lOO 



$5e feegac^. 

" I'll do it gents — put 'er thar — put 'er 
thar." 

And all this happened on the ninth 
day after our fugitives had so tragically 
left Cambridge. On that eventful night 
they had driven to Revere, where they at 
once took a train back to Boston. They 
went to a small German hotel where they 
kept closely to their rooms. 

No disguises were attempted save that 
both men had shaved off their beards. 
In four days the Professor had so recov- 
ered strength that they took an evening 
suburban train to a crossing ten miles 
out, where they waited for the Express. 
They boarded the through train and duly 
arrived in Denver in four days. The 
next afternoon they reached Dead Horse 
City. They had refused to converse with 
any one and had not been molested. 

In life all things are possible — even 
safety. 



lOI 



II. 

RATIXESNAKE PETE was used 
to emergencies. He delighted in 
the unusual and never reached 
Nirvana unless dealing with the extra- 
ordinary. He usually took destiny on a 
jocular basis, but the circumstances of 
the present case were a trifle confusing 
to his limited intellect, so he was seri- 
ous and perplexed. His brain was hardly 
equal to his heart anyway ; and a post 
mortem examination might have shown a 
deficiency in gray matter, with convolu- 
tions not especially deep. 

Then the sight of so much money, the 
offer of a hundred dollars a month, and 
these two anxious men with their soft 
ways caused the thought to come over 
Pete that he was only drunk. 

He tried to shake himself into life 
and realization of the situation, so he 

I02 



arose, as we have said, and remarked 
with animation, " Put 'er thar — put 'er 
thar ! " 

The two strangers looked at each other 
in astonishment. After an instant the 
older man spoke : 

" We hardly — that is to say — sir, we do 
not understand what it is you desire us to 
put there." 

" It's a go, d'w'ye see — shake." 

" Oh, you desire us to introduce our- 
selves. My name is Wilson, Chilo Wil- 
son, whilom Professor of Biology. Mr. 
Johnson, Mr. Snake, Mr. Snake, Mr. 
Johnson. Mr. Johnson is a prizeman, 
his degree is a Magna aim lauda ; he is 
the best student in Ethnology I ever 
knew." 

So they shook hands. 

That is, the little man did the shaking 
and with a force and energy such as the 
others were evidently not used to. 

Pete had now calculated the number 
of drinks he had imbibed since morning 
and assured himseK that he was not drunk, 

103 



t^c fecgocg. 

" Look straight over my shoulder, 
pard," he said, addressing the younger 
man in a low tone, " what you see? " 

Mr. Johnson looked carefully, but saw 
nothing in particular. 

" Don't you see the big cottonwood 
tree with the clump o' willers down by 
the crick, a mile away? " 

*' Yes, I see the tree." 

" And so do I," said the Professor. 

<' Well you, Johnsing, just skirmish ofl 
to the left easy-like, and I'll meet you at 
that big tree in an hour, and th' ole man 
he'll slide off to the right and git 'round 
to same place." 

The two men seemed to place a confi- 
dence in the guide ; but his lowered tone 
called their attention to a group of idlers 
across the street who were watching the 
trio curiously. 

Transparent, simple souls, like our 
friend of the rattlesnake appendices, are 
often possessed of the idea that they have 
a rare skill in contriving deep laid 
schemes. They are so very anxious to 

104 



divert suspicion that they attract it. 
The three men separated ; Pete walked 
off leisurely up the street, whistling as he 
sauntered. 

" Who be the tenderfeet, Pete? " asked 
a friend. 

" Oh, a couple of consumpters, sent 
here by the doctors to kick out I reck- 
on." 

" What they want of you? " 

" Oh nothin' but to ax the way to Bill 
Smith's up on the branch." 

Then Pete rolled on carelessly, still 
whistling. He reached the end of the 
one street of Dead Horse City, slipped 
off into the sage brush and laid down. 
He remained there long enough to make 
sure that no one was following ; then he 
skirted the town, picking his way along 
the mountain side until he came to the 
big Cottonwood tree. 

Sure enough the two strangers were 
there : both trembling with alarm at 
Pete's long absence and fearing that they 
had been led into an ambuscade. 

105 



The scout sat down on a bowlder. As 
he did so the other men stood up. The 
day being warm Pete took off his coat 
and laid off his sombrero. Then he 
fished out of his boot leg a long plug of 
tobacco, a pipe out of his coat, and a 
knife from his trousers and began scrap- 
ing off tobacco to fill the pipe. 

All this v/ithout a word. 

His movements were very deliberate. 
The strangers gazed on him with the look 
of bewildered helplessness such as a 
woman in times of sore trial might be- 
stow on the man she loves. 

These two men were undone. 

The dark lines beneath their eyes told 
of sleepless nights and days when food 
was repulsive — of anxious hours when 
enemies pursued. At last they had found 
a refuge ; and this weather-beaten, con- 
fident, self-sufficient little man was the 
cross to which they clung. Their own 
strength could carry them no further. 
They had up to this time leaned on one 
another, and like drowning men had 

1 06 



clutched until their hands were helpless. 
The tide of untoward events was fast 
drifting them to sea, but a rock had been 
found, a crag lifdng itself out of the 
angry, hungry waves : and this crag was 
Rattlesnake Pete. 

When men meet there is always a swift, 
unspoken understanding between them. 
So there was here. Pete felt their de- 
pendence ; and when we know that others 
are reposing confidence in us it adds cu- 
bits to our stature. 

Pete filled the black pipe with needless 
deliberation. He picked up the som- 
brero and holding it to the windward 
struck a match and took three long de- 
liberate puffs. Then he spoke : 

" You see, gents, don't you know, I 
wasn't ezackly awake up there at the 
town — a man must alius git out away 
from folks and things to have his head- 
piece unlimber fer biz — city's no place 
fer child run or grownups, too much 
smoke from chimleys and goin's on, an' 
raisin' hell. You see, I didn't git yer 

107 



drift — couldn't up thar, how could I? 
Now gin me that lingo and gin it slow." 
Pete waited and silently smoked. 
Mr. Johnson looked at the Professor. 
The Professor looked at Mr. Johnson. 
Both looked at Pete. Pete looked at the 
great white-crowned top of Pinelico 
thirty miles away. Five minutes passed. 

" Yer givin' of it slow gents, but a 
leetle too dam slow." 

" What is it you desire us to give you, 
Mr. Snake? " 

" The grand buzz — same as you did up 
at the Silver Spur." 

"The what?" 

" The racket ! " 

" Why we said we would give you one 
hundred dollars a month." 

" Yes, but tell me again 'bout the ras- 
cals that are on your trail. I didn't 
ezackly git it straight." 

" The rascals ? Oh, the men who are 
after us." 

" Now you have it." 

And so Mr. Johnson told again about 

io8 



the enemies who had sought to capture 
the Professor, of how they had bound 
his hands and tried to carry him away, 
and of how at last Mr. Johnson had 
planned a scheme to elude them, and of 
how after much journeying they had 
reached the terminus of the Dead Horse 
branch of the Rio Grande ; and how 
even here the harsh discordant voices of 
the enemy could still be heard calling, 
calling, calling. 

" I haven't heerd 'em shout — but then 
I'm a leetle deef," said Pete, making up 
a small white lie for the occasion. 

Then there was another moment of si- 
lence, after which the scout knocked the 
ashes out of his pipe by striking it on his 
boot heel. 

" Gents, there's two things to do. Git 
a few o' the boys together and fight 'em 
till hell freezes over, or skip fer the moun- 
tings as th' ole man said. As fer me I 
reckon the best thing to do " 

The explanation was cut short by a 
peculiar sound coming from the direction 

109 



of the Professor. "Ch, ch, ch, ch, ch, 
ch, chuka, chuka, chuka, chuka." 

Mr. Johnson took it up too and his 
right arm went up in the air, then down 
and around, then faster and faster. The 
Professor was moving both of his hands 
in the same way — faster — faster — faster 
— "ch, ch, ch, ch, ch, ch, ch," 

Pete took his eyes off from the distant 
mountain long enough to glance at the 
strangers. Then he again brought forth 
the big, black plug of tobacco from his 
boot leg and refilled his pipe. As he 
struck a match, the Professor gave a long 
" whooo — whoooo-o-o-o " — Mr. Johnson 
came in with a " ding dong, ding (long, 
ding dong," and the arms moved slower 
and slower and finally ceased motion and 
hung listless. 

Pete glanced at the two men and re- 
marked : " is to stay an' fight 'em.'" 

" No, no, no — we must get away from 
the railroad — They keep calling to us 
over the rails, we must get away," cried 
both men in unison. 

no 



Pete still smoked. He was thinking. 

That these two men were sorely dis- 
tressed he well knew. Under such con- 
ditions any man might act peculiarly. 
That there were enemies after them he 
never doubted but it came to him that 
the enemies who were after them were 
officers of the law. In which case it 
would be best to take to the mountains. 

Law to Pete was a pernicious scheme 
for interfering with the rights of honest 
men. Some of the best and most loyal 
friends he had ever known were fugi- 
tives — unfortunate men who had offended 
society and were obliged to flee. In 
fact all of the really good men he had 
ever known had at some time " skipped." 

When Rattlesnake Pete got a clear 
view of any situation he always showed 
himself a man of decision. 

He slid off the bowlder and announced : 
** Gents, we fly the coop in two hours — 
gimme that five hundred and I'll git the 
outfit. You two stay right here and lay 
low." 

Ill 



" Take it all — you can care for it bet- 
ter than I," said Mr. Johnson, and the 
brick shaped package was handed to the 
scout. Pete took the package as if used 
to handling that sort of thing every day, 
and dropped it inside his shirt front, 
gave a hitch to his trousers and disap- 
peared among the willows. 

He picked his way through the shadows 
of the underbrush and dodged along 
among the jagged rocks for nearly half a 
mile. Finally he came out through the 
sage and appeared in town at the com- 
plete opposite end from the big cotton- 
wood tree. His sombrero was on the 
back of his head and his gait was careless 
and leisurely. As he walked he chewed 
a stick. 

Arriving at the railroad station he sat 
down on the platform. A close observer 
might have made out that he was Usten- 
ing and furtively looking for some one. 

He walked into the shanty-like build- 
ing and stood at the entrance to the 
operator's room. That dignitary sat, 

112 



with back to the window at the little ta- 
ble, with fingers on the clicking instru- 
ment. He was a slight, gentlemanly 
yoimg fellow from the East and like most 
railroad agents felt a proper degree of 
scorn for the public. He knew Pete was 
waiting at the window, yet he did not 
look around. 

Pete heard the click of the key and he 
also could distinguish a plain buzzing 
sound that at times partially put itself 
into words. It was some one shouting, 
sure. The scout was no coward but that 
continual buzz and click made him feel a 
little queer. He tiptoed out, as he 
thought unobserved, and laid his ear 
down close to the rail. Yes, there it 
was, a plain, though muffled sound, of 
someone shouting and calling from miles 
and miles away ! 

It was the enemy coming in hot pur- 
suit of his new found friends. 

A desire to get away came over Pete ; 
a tremor ran through his hardy frame 
and an uncanny feeling of evil seemed to 

113 



envelop him. He felt to see that the 
brick-shaped package was all right, that 
his pistols were in place and then he 
drew his belt one hole tighter, gave a 
swift glance behind and started for the 
hotel. 

What was it agitated him? The Un- 
known. 

The known may be alarming but the 
Unseen is terrible. It saps the springs 
of action and by it decision is shorn of 
strength. Jt is the miasma of the dis- 
mal swamp that shuts down and holds 
the victim in its soft embrace ; the mist 
of the mountain top that conceals the 
precipice and yet says alluringly — " This 
way." It is the fog that hides the ice- 
berg ; the jungle that covers the tiger ; 
the doubt that paralyzes will. We can 
cope with the defined : when Goliath 
comes forth on the open plain we fear- 
lessly give him fight with nothing better 
than a sling and pebbles from the brook. 
But Goliath in a maze of mystery, Goli- 
ath shouting curses, guttural and deep, 

114 



from out the blackness of a cloud — ah ! 
that is different. 

Rattlesnake Pete's air of easy indiffer- 
ence had given place to apprehension ; 
smothered, of course, but still there. 
The sauntering shamble was replaced by 
an eager, erect and alert attitude. He 
moved away. 

The bar room was his first objective 
point. 

Behind the rough board hotel, known 
as the Grand Central, was a corral 
wherein were kept a dozen or more 
horses. Bronchos they were, with ewe 
necks, rat tails and brands of various de- 
vices, burned deep on hip, neck or 
withers. These animals were the prop- 
erty of a speculator called " Kiuse Joe." 
This worthy man fitted out prospecting 
parties who went out into the mountains 
from time to time. When these parties 
came back, they had horses to sell and 
the Kiuse bought them at his own price. 

Then suspicious strangers often rode 
in on sorry scrubs and being in haste to 

115 



catch the train would sell their nags at 
Kiuse Joe's first bid. 

Whether Joe was like Caesar's wife or 
not is entirely irrelevant. We are not 
here to investigate his character nor cast 
slurs on his business methods. Further 
than this the writer of this tale craves no 
libel suit, not even when he might claim 
" truth " and " justification " as a de- 
fense. But at any rate the corral behind 
the Grand Central at Dead Horse City 
was often a great convenience to the 
citizens. 

You could get a horse there at a mo- 
ment's notice. The price you had to 
pay of course depended entirely on the 
urgency of the case, just as the rate of 
interest at your banker's depends upon 
how much you need the loan ; or as cer- 
tain men advance the price of lumber if 
they see a neighbor fall off from the 
dock, so did the Kiuse's figures fluctu- 
ate. 

If you rode up on a horse badly 
blown, that trembled on his legs when 

ii6 



you dismounted, Joe would take your 
tired horse and give you a fresh one for 
fifty dollars to boot. If however you 
had three days to spare, and would sit on 
the corral fence, and tell yarns and by 
your actions convince Joe that you did 
not want a horse, you might get a fairly 
good animal for fifteen dollars, provided 
you would stand treat. Another advan- 
tage of buying your horses of Joe — they 
were always warranted sound and kind. 

Joe's live stock never saw oats : they 
interviewed alfalfa once a day and the 
rest of the time chewed on the cotton- 
wood poles that formed the corral. Yet 
it must not be supposed that they were 
devoid of spirit. Cottonwood bark is 
said to make a broncho feel his worth 
more than any other variety of provender. 

" I want three bronc's, Joe, git yer lar- 
iat, quick ! " 

Rattlesnake Pete's voice betrayed his 
anxiety. He had known Joe long and 
well and his innocent nature expected 
his old **pard" would respond to his 

117 



necessities. But the Kiuse had lived so 
long in town that civilization had tainted 
his honor. 

" Haven't no bronc's to sell," growled 
Joe as he continued to whittle away on 
his stick, "what's the rush? " 

" No animiles to sell ! whose air 
these?" 

" All engaged — who wants any? " 

" / want 'em, you dirty prairie dog — 
you measly buzzard — I want 'em ! name 
yer price an' jest remember that I'll find 
you with an empty catridge belt some day 
and you'll think a grizzly is after you. 
How much for my pick outer yer bone- 
yard?" 

" Now Pete, what's the use o' gittin* 
riled. I tole you the bronc's was sold — 
but in course, we are old fren's, p'r'aps I 
kin stand the other feller off — Take yer 
chice fer a hundred apiece." 

" Git yer lariat, ye miserable road 
agent, an' rope the roan with the bar X 
brand, the claybank with the A. B. and 
the Pinto stud." 

ii8 



"How 'bout the dust?" 

" Oh you think I haven't money — 
lookee this ! " 

Pete reached down into his shirt and 
brought up the big green package. He 
cut the strings that bound it and counted 
out the three hundred dollars. But when 
he came to tie the money up again the bills 
proved very obstreperous and the pack- 
age swelled to double its former size. 

The dealer in horse bones looked on 
with staring eyes. 

" Here, let me give you a lift." 

" Not you, kiute, git them horses I've 
overpaid you for." 

The slippery bills refused to be 
" roped " and in desperation Pete thrust 
them into his bosom in three big hand- 
fulls. 

Then he started out to find a sheep 
herder, who lived at the end of the 
street, who he knew had a pair of pack 
burros. 

The herder was finally found and the 
burros purchased and paid for. They 

119 



were a mile away in the foothills but the 
sheepman promised to have them at the 
hotel in an hour. 

But sheepmen hold truth lightly. 

In the meantime Pete had improved 
each passing moment as it flew. He had 
taken just eleven drinks of what he was 
pleased to call " pizen " and this had 
quite called back the old time self. He 
was brave to rashness and cursed back 
under his breath at the voices that kept 
ringing in his ears. He had almost de- 
cided to wait until the enemy came up, 
and give them fight in the public street ! 
But he happened to think of the two 
strangers down in the willows who were 
waiting for him. Besides he had prom- 
ised to get them back in the mountains 
and he proposed to keep his word. 

At the St. Louis Supply Store, across 
the street from the hotel, he bought sad- 
dles and bridles for his three horses, and 
a full camping outfit with a goodly sup- 
ply of hard tack, bacon and coffee. 
Then three Winchester rifles and a 

I20 



thousand rounds of ammunition were 
added to the purchase and Pete adjourned 
with the salesman across the way and 
threw dice for refreshments. 

The scout went out and looked up the 
street anxiously from time to time for his 
pack burros. But they were not visible 
to the naked eye. Then he went back 
and took another drink, calling up the 
" boys." There was quite a large family 
of these boys, and their numbers seemed 
congested, about this time, around the 
Grand Central bar room. In fact ex- 
citement was a scarce article in Dead 
Horse and the fitting out of a prospect- 
ing party was quite an event. Especially 
so, as the two strangers had attracted 
considerable attention by their peculiar 
ways ; and the truth had now gotten 
out that they had employed Rattlesnake 
Pete as their guide, treasurer, secretary 
and legal adviser. This news having 
been whispered by Pete to the bar- 
tender, while absorbing the seventh three 
fingers of " strychnine and logwood." 

121 



After drawing the back of his hand 
across his mouth, after the tenth drink, 
the further information was added, in 
strictest secrecy, that one of the " tender- 
feet " was mayor of New York and t'other 
mayor of Boston. 

Pete never got drunk ; he was proof 
against any such weakness, but whiskey 
merely loosened his tongue a little. And 
all the time his senses were in good con- 
dition. He felt quite sure that the two 
strangers down in the willows were not 
exactly hke other people, and he feared 
they would be ridiculed if he allowed 
them to come up into the settlement. 
His intention was to get the burros loaded 
and then take the horses down to the 
Cottonwood and make the start from 
there. 

But the burros did not come. 

Sheepmen in general, sheepmen every- 
where and this particular sheepman es- 
pecially, were all well cursed and reviled 
as Pete went out and looked up the street 
for the twentieth time. No burros in 

122 



sight, but something else was : Mr. John- 
son and Professor Wilson walking hur- 
riedly up the dusty road, hand in hand. 

As soon as they saw Pete they ran to 
him, shook him by the hand and fell on 
his neck with joy. The scout took it as 
a matter of course and introduced them 
to the crowd as his old friends, the Mayor 
of Boston and the Mayor of New York. 
This the strangers evidently took as a 
necessary subterfuge on the part of the 
guide to hide their identity, so they made 
no protest. 

Three cheers were given for the emi- 
nent visitors and all drank to their health 
at Pete's expense. The landlord stood 
on a chair and made a speech of wel- 
come. The Mayor of New York was 
urged to reply. He did so and branched 
off on the subject of Co-Education. His 
speech was heartily applauded and the 
Mayor of Boston had taken the platform 
on the subject of The Microscope in 
Botany when the long looked for burros 
were announced. 

123 



There they stood — these two meek, pa- 
tient bearers of burdens, in their modest 
grey, waiting the bidding of their new 
master. 

Pete cast one glance of contempt on 
the sheepman : he would not waste breath 
by upbraiding so despicable a thing ! 

Willing hands brought forth the packs 
and camping outfit, and bound them onto 
the descendants of Balaam's vis a vis. 
It's a matter of science to tie a pack so 
as not to sow pans and kettles along the 
trail, but the volunteers had done this 
thing before. They tugged, and pulled, 
and swore, and those who did not work 
gave orders and advice to those who did, 
and helped on the task by many merry 
jests : ofT-color perhaps, so they cannot 
be given here. 

The two Honorables from the cul- 
tured East stood apart from the crowd 
and looked on. Suddenly the jack 
opened his mouth and gave a long and 
most discordant bray. The mayors 
moved as one man and made a mad rush 

124 



for the door of the hotel. Finally they 
were induced to come out. 

" What is in those bags? " asked the 
Professor of Rattlesnake Pete. 

" Grub, man, what you s'pose? " 

" Beg pardon — I did not understand? " 

" Chuck, grub, hash, belly-timber." 

" Oh, you mean food. Why I meant 
to tell you, we brought provisions from 
Boston. We thought we could get noth- 
ing here." 

"That's right," put in the landlord, 
" they have five boxes o' stuff, I didn't 
know what it was fer, though ! " 

" Fetch 'em out," roared Pete. 

Five men brought out five boxes, 
which bore labels as follows : 

Zower^s Cooked Oats. 

Gloucester Boneless Cod. 

Boston Baked Beans. 

Boston Brown Bread. 

Boston Health Coffee. 

*' Holy smokes — it's a queer kit, but put 
'em on ! " remarked Pete. 

The boxes were piled upon the patient 

135 



burros, more rope was produced, more 
advice was tendered by the bystanders 
and then there were more oaths and 
merry jests. The boxes were at last se- 
cure. 

They looked secure at least, but when 
the jenny gave a loud, long he-haw of 
protest and laid down and rolled, the 
vanity of human things was apparent. 

The burro had gotten out of that pack 
as easily as a woman might out of a 
hoopskirt. Boxes and bags, guns and 
pans, packages and parcels were left in 
the dust and the jenny galloped lazily off 
up the street, while the jack, loving and 
loyal, with the mountain of sin on his 
back, hobbled after. 

Jibes and jeers, flings and fleers, shouts 
of laughter and roars of mirth from the 
assembled populace ; while red curses both 
loud and picturesque came from Pete. 

A man on horseback, who was viewing 
the scene, rode after the eloping burros, 
rounded them up, and brought them 
back. An expert put on the pack this 

126 



time ; it stayed. Then the three bron- 
chos that had been purchased from Kiuse 
Joe, and warranted sound and kind, were 
brought out. 

The oldest veteran, and most saddle 
scarred, was selected for the Mayor of 
New York. He had never ridden on 
horseback and after Pete had mounted 
the animal to prove its docility and show 
him how, the Mayor was assisted into the 
saddle. The gold rimmed glasses and 
high hat and white hair were pathetically 
out of keeping with the big Mexican 
saddle and the bony broncho, but the 
crowd respected old age and was silent. 

Then the Mayor of Boston mounted 
and showed by his actions that he had 
done the thing before. 

" Take back that dun and gimme * the 
Lamb,' " ordered Pete of Kiuse Joe. 

This horse that the guide called for at 
the eleventh hour had considerable more 
than a local reputation. He had a pink 
muzzle, white eyebrows, one eye blue and 
one brown, and a limp tail that was 

127 



carried on the side. To the uninitiated he 
was innocent and free from guile, as his 
name suggested. He appeared as child- 
hke as a bunco steerer, and as the resi- 
dents of Dead Plorse were a people fond 
of pleasantry, they called him the Lamb. 
The Lamb had been sold by Kiuse Joe 
sev-enteen times and bought back as many 
more at half price. He was the animal 
always selected for a tenderfoot who car- 
ried too much style. 

When the Lamb was sold to a stranger 
word was quickly passed around, and out 
of the board shanties, the tents, and the 
dug-outs came the worthy citizens to see 
the proud aristocrat mount. Of course 
he was thrown and when he recovered 
(if he did recover) enough to protest he 
would ask Joe, *' Why in heaven's name 
did you tell me that horse was kind? " 

" He air kind — (kind-er full o' hell — ) 
you must 'er aggerwated him somehow 1 " 

Then the crowd would guffaw boister- 
ously and various worthy citizens would 
come forward and swear in peculiar and 

128 



unique oaths that the horse was gentle as 
a lamb ; the stranger would then have to 
buy distilled spirits and Kiuse Joe would 
buy the Lamb back at his own figure. 

Yet if the rider could stick to the sad- 
dle for just five minutes he won the re- 
spect of the Lamb, and the citizens, and 
had a good horse — as good as there was 
in Joe's corral. Pete knew this, then the 
crowd knew that the Lamb was in the 
corral and Pete knew that the crowd 
knew it. 

Pete's honor was at stake. He ha^ to 
ride the Lamb and that was all there was 
about it. 

The Rattlesnake led the horse out to 
the middle of the street, and pulled both 
girths tighter. He put his left hand into 
the check strap, and bunched the reins in 
his right, which was on the horn on the 
saddle. Then he put his left foot cau- 
tiously into the stirrup and watched the 
horse's blue eye. 

The onlookers were breathless ; for 
they remembered that the last man who 

129 



attempted to ride this horse was picked 
up in the stony street, with blood burst- 
ing from ears, eyes and mouth and that 
he never spoke after. 

As the scout's weight was felt by the 
horse, the brute sank down and was still 
as death. Jt appeared simply as if the 
law of gravitation was j)ulling him to 
earth. 

Quicker than lightning's flash he shot 
up in the air and forward. But the for- 
ward lunge merely drew Pete into the 
saddle. When the mad animal struck 
twenty feet away, the rider was astride 
but standing with his weight in one stir- 
rup, so that the concussion which might 
have knocked the breath from his body 
was considerably eased. 

Pete gave the horse no chance to rest 
— the spurs were applied so that the 
blood spurted ; the big white sombrero 
was rolled into a club in a twinkling, and 
fell with a bang over the animal's head. 
There were jumps, kicks, rears and wild 
plunges, with that stifled mixture of 

i^o 



t0e fee^oc^ 

groan, grunt and screech which a mad 
horse makes; but the girths held. A 
good rider, but one less skillful, might 
have thrown the horse backward in one 
of those perpendicular rears, but Pete was 
an artist. 

At last the broncho bounded forward 
like a racer, and shot down the long nar- 
row street. Pete stood in one stirrup 
and raked the spur on his right heel from 
the horse's head to his tail ; then drew 
his revolver and fired a volley into the air. 
The crowd cheered. 
In five minutes the Lamb and his rider 
jogged back on a sleepy fox trot, 

AH this time the two burros, with 
their loads piled high in the air, dozed in 
the sun. And the Mayor of New York 
and the Mayor of Boston sat astride 
their quiet steeds looking on in speech- 
less horror, 

"Now we're oKl Follow me, gents, 
and you boys, start the burros." 

Several volunteers, with kicks profuse 
and curses jocund, awakened the burros 

131 



$6e i^c^c^c^^ 

and clubbed them forward. They also 
started the horses of the two strangers. 
The sorry steeds bearing the Professor 
and Mr. Johnson moved. Moved slowly 
and leisurely, with lowered heads and 
dracri^ing feet — moved right around the 
corner of the hotel to the corral. 

Then the kind and courteous citizens 
led them back into the road. Again the 
stubborn brutes refused to leave their 
home — sweet home. 

Sticks were produced and applied but 
with no other effect than to cause these 
thoroughbreds, that were warranted sound 
and kind, to bite at the legs of their rid- 
ers, and kick out one foot as a cow will 
that has conscientious scruples about be- 
mg milked. 

Pete swore. Kiuse Joe declared that 
the animals had never balked before. 
Dozens of men gave advice. But the 
landlord decided on what to do ; he told 
Pete to make a train of them. Pete for 
reasons of his own thought it best not to 
dismount, but every one present was 

132 



willing to do his bidding. The three 
horses were put in a line — one behind 
the other, with the guide in front, the 
Mayor of Boston next, the Mayor of 
New York following, next the jack and 
then the jenny. Each animal's halter 
was tied to the tail of the one in front. 

Just then the Mayor of New York gave 
a loud " ding, dong ding " and his right 
arm moved up slowly, down and over, 
like the piston rod of a locomotive. The 
Mayor of Boston did the same, " ch, ch, 
ch, ch, ch, chuka, chuka — " * * * 

The crowd looked in wonder, but high 
above the sound of escaping steam came 
the voice of Rattlesnake Pete : 

"Wait till I say when ! " 

The crowd stood ready. Some with 
clubs, some with sticks, some with hands 
on hip pockets. 

Pete lifted his sombrero, and holding 
it above his head in mid air counted — 
*' One — two — three — let 'er — went ! " 

There was a yell from a hundred 
throats — the clubs were brought down on 

133 



t^ £egac^. 

cne burros, the sticks were applied to the 
horses — those who had no clubs and 
could get within reach gave a kick at the 
nearest animal — and the volley from re- 
volvers made a din that raised wild 
echoes from the distant hills. 

The train was off like a thunderbolt, 
with the Lamb in front plunging and 
kicking and snorting but always moving 
straight ahead. Away they went in a 
cloud of dust ! The Mayor of New York 
clung for dear life. His high hat blew 
off, he lost his spectacles, his trousers 
worked up to his knees, but still he clung. 

As for the Mayor of Boston he held 
fast, too, and yelled like a maniac — he 
seemed to enjoy it. 

Down the street they went like Satan 
running away with the souls of men. 
They swung around into the trail a half 
mile away in an instant and were lost to 
view. As they turned the corner their 
speed was so great that a truthful on- 
looker has left on record the fact that 
" the jinny's tail snapped like a whip." 

134 



It was a great exit ! It supplied Dead 
Horse City food for conversation for 
many moons. 



135 



II. 

IT was a rough ride and a furious. 
But soon after making the turn into 
Sante Mino trail a loud *' whooooo " 
was heard followed by a " ding dong, 
ding dong, ding" and Mr. Johnson's 
voice called : 

" Reverse her — reverse her ! apply 
your air brake, Mr. Snake, your air 
brake ! " 

Being now beyond the din of the crowd 
the horses were showing a desire for a 
more moderate gait. The burros were 
rather a heavy tail to the comet anyway, 
for a burro is conservative and has a 
great faculty for holding back. Pete 
turned in his saddle to view the cavalcade. 

*' Do you always — always — leave town 
like that?" asked Mr. Johnson from out 
of the alkali dust, as they slowed down 
to a walk. 

136 



" Sure — gener'ly a leetle faster though. 
Reckon we better stop and fix up the 
Mayor of New York." 

It was time ; the poor old Professor 
was a sorry sight. Fortunately his horse 
had not kicked or plunged, so by dint of 
close clinging to the horn of the big 
Mexican saddle he had been able to hold 
fast. But his hat and spectacles were 
gone, one end of his collar burst and his 
cravat was around under his left ear. 
His feet were out of the stirrups and his 
trousers had worked up clear to his knees, 
showing quite a space of bare leg, all 
chafed and bleeding from the dashing 
stirrups. 

There he clung, his white hair blowing 
in the breeze, his eyes staring, and even 
after Pete had come to a dead stop, it 
took him a full minute to get his breath. 

" My glasses — Mr. Snake, and my hat 
— back up I pray you — back up and get 
them," then feeHng in his coat pockets, 
" and my notebook, Mr. Snake, it bounced 
out of my pocket, back up I pray you ! " 

137 



" How fur back air they? " 

" Oh, a mile — back up and get my 
glasses." 

" Couldn't you see Jagoold without 
'em?" 

" What's that — you do not think he is 
coming, do you? " 

"Don't I? In course he is, he an' 
Sly and the whole dam raft. — There's no 
time to monkey 'bout hats and spec's and 
note books — You kin have my note book 
and my hat — here try this on ! " 

Pete had dismounted. 

He came back and clapped his own 
big sombrero with its band of rustling, 
rattling snake tails onto the Professor's 
head, and knotted up a red bandana 
handkerchief as a cap for himself. Then 
he adjusted the old man's clothing as 
well as he could, placed his feet in the' 
stirrups and told him how to sit properly 
in the saddle. The animals were then 
separated, the burros driven on in front, 
and by the help of much thumping from 
the guide were kept from vegetating. 

138 



The other two horses were now perfectly 
willing to follow, so all went well as the 
sun slowly settled down behind the 
mountain peak. 

Ten miles perhaps had been made. 
The road so far had led along a gently 
ascending slope. Suddenly to the view, 
this slope opened out into a beautiful pla- 
teau which was skirted on one side by a 
murmuring mountain stream and on the 
other by piles of tumbled bowlders. 

The last rays of the sun came through 
the divide and caused the great cotton- 
wood trees to send out long shadows as 
if in the absence of mankind to greet 
the tired travellers. It was an ideal place 
to camp, for there were the three requi- 
sites : feed, water and fuel. 

The horses had evidently been here 
before, for they turned off the trail of 
their own accord and came to a halt. 

" Well, gents, here we camp," said the 
guide as he flung himself from his horse. 

The Professor sat in his saddle until 
assisted to alight. He took no interest 

139 



in anything, but Mr. Johnson looked 
about as if pleased with the beauty of 
the place. 

Pete slipped the saddles from the 
horses while the Professor sat on the 
grass and looked dumbly on. Then by 
the help of Mr. Johnson the burros were 
relieved of their burdens, like unto the 
good man in PilgrivCs Progress when 
about to enter the gates of Paradise. 

The animals all drank a long and re- 
freshing draught from the stream, then 
rolled on the grass, and getting up shook 
their sweaty hides with satisfaction. The 
jack rolled over four times, as if in glee, 
and arose to explain, braying a long ear- 
splitting bar of discord to prove his grat- 
itude for getting rid of his mountain of 
sin. 

The good old Professor was too worn 
and weary to be frightened. Perhaps, 
though, he had gotten acquainted with 
the jack by this time ; but he could not 
even smile when Pete, busy making a fire 
of brushwood, called, " He's talkin' to 

140 



you, Uncle ! " The fire was soon crack- 
ling merrily as Mr. Johnson, in compli- 
ance with the guide's orders, piled on 
more brush. 

Then Pete produced fishing tackle out 
of the mysterious depths of the packs 
and began turning over logs and flat 
stones looking for bait. 

The stream was only a brook in places 
— dancing over the pebbles that were 
magnified into precious gems by the 
clear, sparkling snow broth. 

In one place the waters took a sudden 
plunge, making a miniature cataract that 
fell at the bottom only in mist. But 
right at this spot great, jagged rocks, 
hurled ages ago in wrath by the gods 
from the mountain summit, blocked the 
stream's hurried journey to the sea ; so 
that a little Lake Pepin had been made, 
as if to enable children to sail their 
boats. But in the cold, clear depths of 
this little lake where the waters rested 
ere rushing onward, were trout galore : 
speckled, hungry, savage, gamy trout that 

141 



fought for the hook. Gentle Izaak Wal- 
ton never saw such fish, for if he had the 
Covipleat Angler, excellent as it is, would 
have resolved itself into an epic sublime 
as the Iliad, rich as The Tempest, " com- 
pleat " as Hamlet and as gladsome as the 
Merry Wives. 

In five minutes enough brook trout 
were floundering on the fresh grass to 
make a meal for thrice three men. 

" It's nearly equal to the Maine woods," 
said Mr. Johnson as he again cast his 
line. 

" Maine woods b'damed ! " answered 
Pete contemptuously, ** Maine woods ! I 
s'pose you caught that box of codfish in 
the Maine woods ! " 

Mr. Johnson made no reply ; evi- 
dently the sport took him back to child- 
hood's days, for it needed a stern swear 
word and an order from the grim guide 
to make him reel his line. 

The fish were quickly cleaned, rolled 
in cracker dust, salted and peppered, then 
placed between layers of fat pork in the 

142 



"spider" over the coals. Potatoes were 
roasted in the ashes and Pete proved that 
he knew how to make coffee. 

The guide stripped pieces of white 
birch bark off from a tree that stood 
near, which they used for plates. 

The Professor still stupidly stared out 
in front, too tired to eat or even move. 
Mr. Johnson finally succeeded in getting 
him to take one of the birch bark plates 
and then to taste the fish. He seemed 
to relish the morsel. Then he drank a 
whole tin cup of the coffee and dumbly 
passed back his piece of birch bark for 
another trout and a roasted potato. 

"That man haint dead yit — what an 
apesy he do have ! " said the scout. 

They all had an " apesy " in fact, for 
all the fish they had cooked were dis- 
sected. Pete made pretense of squeez- 
ing the coffee pot ; Mr. Johnson poHshed 
the inside of the skillet with a piece of 
hard tack ; then the guide flung his birch 
bark plate into the fire : an easy way to 
wash dishes. The two other men 

143 



mechanically did the same and all sat 
hugging their knees, watching the decor- 
ated tableware sputter and crackle and 
burst into flame. 

No one spoke, but there was about 
them an atmosphere of content that 
comes with a full meal and a camj) fire, 
the murmur of running water and the 
mountain twilight. 

Pete produced his pipe and silently 
smoked. The Professor forgot all about 
his enemies and was too sleepy to start 
a train. Mr. Johnson seemed inclined to 
reverie as he watched the soft curling 
smoke. The drowsy hum of beetles, 
mixed with the melody of the waters, 
and all the muffled noises of the gloaming 
were joined to form the one great silence 
of the starry night. 

A cold breeze was blowing gently down 
the valley and the guide got up and piled 
on more brush. The animals had eaten 
their fill and lain down to rest. Plankets 
were brought out and Mr. Johnson ten- 
derly wrapped the Professor round, 

144 



making him a pillow out of a little pile 
of twigs and leaves, then laid him down, 
feet towards the fire, tucking him in as 
he might a child. More wood was thrown 
on the embers and Johnson, thoroughly 
tired, following the example of the guide, 
rolled himself in a blanket and placed a 
saddle under his head. 

Only the faint stars and the great silver 
moon kept guard, and the soothing song 
of the brook was a lullaby that soon 
brought sleep : balm of hurt minds, great 
nature's second course, chief nourisher in 
life's feast. 



MS 



IV. 

PERHAPS they had slept four hours ; 
slept soundly as men do after an 
exhausting series of events. The 
moon had gone down behind the moun- 
tain that lifted itself against the blue- 
blackness of the night, The stars shone 
as if they felt it their duty to make good 
the light that had been lost. It was 
quite dark. The wind increased and 
made a mournful, sighing sound through 
the swaying branches, and from far off 
across the valley came the dismal howl of 
a wolf. 

The fire had burned low. 

Still the men slept. The cool night 
air made them unconsciously draw the 
blankets over their heads. 

Again the howl of the wolf and the 
screech of an owl from the distant foot- 
hills. 

146 



The horses were all up and grazing 
again. The jenny lying down, with the 
jack standing over her with lowered 
head. 

Suddenly the Lamb lifted his head, 
thrust his ears forward, gave a snort and 
dashed away in a manner that tested the 
strength of the lariat. But it held. 

Pete was awake in an instant and seiz- 
ing the Winchester that was by his side, 
crawled out into the chaparral, to get 
away from any chance glare of the 
smouldering fire. Then he lay flat be- 
hind a bowlder and listened. 

No sound was heard save the sighing 
of the wind and the noise of running 
water. 

The scout could see by the aid of the 
sheet lightning that shone out now and 
then that the three horses were all stand- 
ing expectant, with heads erect looking 
out down towards the trail. 

Pete slipped around to the other side 
of the rock. 

*' What ever it air, it will come from 

147 



that side," said Pete to himself as he 
leveled the rifle across the bowlder. 

He waited. 

There was a sound of approaching 
steps and Pete could make out a man on 
horse-back riding slowly forward. 

The rifle rang out on the night air and 
the ball cut the leaves of the cottonwood 
far above the head of the stranger. 

" For God's sake, Pete, let up on that 
— don't you know me 1 " 

I'he empty cartridge was pumped out 
and replaced with another. 

"That you Pete?" 

The figure in the darkness stood still. 

" Don't you know me Pete, it's me — 
Kiuse Joe. Some one's run off two of 
my horses — Haven't heard any one go 
by, have you? " 

** Nary a one." 

Pete was suspicious. This man was a 
rogue and not over brave as the guide 
knew ; and his coming at this time of 
night and alone after a horse thief was a 
little more than Pete could believe. But 

148 



the fellow told a very plausible story— 
about the horses being taken from the 
corral just at eleven o'clock, of how the 
loss had been accidentally discovered 
and the trail followed for several miles 
when it was lost. 

" They must a turned off back at the 
ford for no one has come by here," said 
Pete. 

" Wall, if you don't keer I'll just git 
warm by your fire and soon as mornin' 
comes I'll pike back and find their 
tracks," returned the Kiuse, 

" I'll excuse you if you pike back to 
wunst." 

" Why Pete, you wouldn't go back on 
a fellar that way would you? " 

" Go back on you, you sneak — yes, if 
you want to put it so— fact is, I've no use 
for you, now don't come no closer ! " 

" All right, Pete, you're mighty cranky 
but I'm no man to quarrel. I'm an hon- 
est peac'ble man, I am. Just let me git 
a light for my pipe at your fire and I'll 
say good night." 

149 



The man had dismounted and now 
came forward leading his horse. Pete 
lowered his rifle and allowed the fellow to 
approach the fire. The man sat down 
and bringing out his pipe filled it and 
handed the tobacco over to Pete without 
saying a word. Pete took the proffered 
plug, brought forth his own pipe and 
then sat down. There they sat, these 
two, in the flickering light of the dying 
fire and quietly smoked. Pete sat where 
he could note the slightest move of the 
man, his rifle across his knees. Each 
moment he intended to order the caller 
to be gone, and yet he was half ashamed 
to be so inhospitable to one against whom 
he merely had a prejudice. 

Pete survey e< I the man with one eye 
and all the time Joe sat there calmly 
smoking and looking into the fire ; his 
horse with lowered head standing meekly 
behind. Off to the east faint streaks of 
silver grey light stood out against the 
horizon. Pete was calculating how soon 
it would be sun-up and wondering if it 



would not be much more manly to let 
the visitor stay, give him his breakfast 
and then let him go of his own accord than 
to order him off at the muzzle of a Win- 
chester. In fact he was on the point of 
apologizing for his incivility when a sound 
from behind as of a breaking twig caused 
him to spring to his feet. 

It was too late. Before he had reached 
an upright position he was borne to the 
ground by two men, one of whom had 
clasped his legs and the other was on his 
shoulders. He fell heavily. 

They pinned him fast and had gotten a 
lariat twice wrapped around and knotted 
about his body and tied about his wrists 
before he recovered his breath. 

There he lay, hands and feet tied ; one 
ruffian standing over him with the Win- 
chester and the other feeling in his pock- 
ets. 

And all the time Kiuse Joe sat and 
smoked. 

Pete cursed and kicked and struggled 
to get his hands free, but in vain. Then 

151 



he managed to partially sit up, but a push 
and a kick set him back to earth. There 
was a shout of triumph when several 
handsfull of much crumpled green paper 
were pulled out of the shirt front of the 
helpless victim. 

This brought Kiuse Joe to his feet. 

** Here you, give that here ! " 

" But you haint goin' to forgit that a 
quarter of it is mine ! " 

"That's straight," put in the third 
man, " we had a clar understandin' 'bout 
that — one quarter to each of us — That 
leaves you the hog's share." 

" But by the great jee-hoss-afat who 
was it struck the lead anyway? You know 
dam well both of you that it was me lo- 
cated the claim ! " 

The man holding the Winchester 
stepped back four paces and in a voice 
unnecessarily calm, said : 

"Just give us our share of the wad 
now." ( 

Kiuse Joe's voice rhanged a trifle as 
he answered, " All right — but the two 

152 



tenderfeet that was with him — have they 
vamosed for good, think you? " 

" They air two mile off and runnin' 
hard, I'll bet. When Pete popped the 
Winchester they broke for cover like 
gazelles — Come, the green stuff, divide 
now Hke an honest man ! " 

**0h you needn't be oneasy, you know 
I'll do the squar thing, we'd better finish 
the job first. The tenderfeet air sick 
anyway, but Pete here must be fixed. If 
we let him go " 

" Here Joe, you're talkin' too much 
with your mouth — you know we will have 
nothin' to do with that part of it. You 
give us our share and we will skip — that's 
what we agreed." 

The man still stood off, holding the 
rifle in his hands and toying with the 
lock. 

" Well, here she goes," said Joe. 

He shook up the fire so as to get a bet- 
ter light ; then getting down on his knees 
he cut the string of the package and laid 
the money out in four piles. 

'53 



t^c £egacp. 

** Here now gents two of these is mine 
and one each is yourn. We will pull 
straws for first pick." 

Four blades of grass were gathered 
and the three men half sat, half crouched 
over the four piles of money. Each 
man seemingly expecting that the others 
would make a grab. 

There was a nervous wrangling about 
who should hold the straws. It was fin- 
ally decided that they were to be put in 
a bunch under a hat so that the ends 
were barely visible. This was done and 
the three men were each over on all fours 
intent on seeing fair play. Joe was to 
draw first. He was just reaching forth 
his hand, and the cat-like eyes of the 
others were upon him, but he did not 
draw — something else happened. 

He fell forward senseless, his face 
ploughing through the sand and his body 
covering the four piles of money. 

A heavy club had swung through the 
air and descended on the back of his 
head ; for Johnson had lain in the sage 

154 



brush all the time only ten yards away. 
He had witnessed the whole performance. 
When the enterprising business men had 
forgotten all else in the pulling of straws, 
Johnson tiptoed forward and dealt the 
blow. With a yell like the scream of a 
panther he threw himself on the taller 
man. The fellow had gotten to his feet, 
and although he was a powerful man he 
had met his match in the college athlete. 
Johnson grappled with him and quickly 
worked him toward the precipice. Then 
there was a quick scuffle on the brink, 
heavy breathing, the pause of an instant 
when each man stood still, his muscles 
knotted like coiled wire. 

But Johnson's strength was the strength 
of a maniac. 

He surprised his victim by releasing 
his hold of him : threw himself half un- 
der him — the cross-buttock did it, and 
the man went crashing through the slip- 
pery shale — down, down, down — through 
cacti and briers and over jagged rocks. 
He tried to seize a small tree that was 

155 



t^ Ecgacg. 

near, but the roots gave way — it was grav- 
itation pulling him down and the rocks 
above loosened by his fall, chased after, 
rattling 'round his head. Down, down, 
down — the sound of slipping and sliding 
grew less and then there was heard only 
a faint splash as the torn body shot out 
over the last j^rojerting clilT and fell into 
the icy water below. 

And all the while Rattlesnake Pete lay 
tied, helpless. He had seen Johnson ap- 
proach with upraised club. He saw the 
blow fall. He saw the struggle on the 
edge of the precipice and all the time he 
heard the sound of hoof-beats dying 
away in the distance. One of the callers 
had made a wild and unceremonious 
rush for freedom. That panther's screech 
and scream had made safety his only 
wish. 

Johnson stood absent-mindedly at the 
edge of the precipice for several seconds 
after that ominous splash was heard. 

" Here you, Mayor of Bosting, air you 
goin' to let a feller lay here and die? " 

156 



Pete was half sitting up, twisting and 
writhing with the lariat like the Laocoon 
of old. 

Johnson followed orders, getting a 
knife out of Pete's belt and cutting the 
ropes. 

Pete stood up and flung his arms out. 
" It made my hands go asleep— that's 
all. Where's the Perfesser of Goshology 
— I hope he did not miss seein' the fight 
—But Lord, you did that well — Pm proud 
on you Johnsing — proud on you." 

Rattlesnake Pete piled buffalo chips 
and brush on the fire, lit his pipe, and 
then paid his respects to Kiuse Joe. The 
man had received a hard blow on a vul- 
nerable spot. He was still insensible- 
breathing deeply at long intervals. 

Pete lifted the limp form off from the 
*' promises to pay" and replaced the 
bills in his shirt front. Then an attempt 
was made to get the injured man into a 
sitting posture, but he rolled over like a 
sack of salt. 

" He may be playin' possum. If he's 



dyin' it won't do no haiin for him lo go 
to hell with his hands tied," and Pete 
fastened the iinprotesting hands and feet 
very much as he himself had been tied 
so short a time before. 

Meanwhile Mr. Johnson had gone out 
in the brush and brought in Professor 
Wilson. The old man was trembling 
with excitement so he could scarcely 
stand. He looked at the helpless form 
of Kiusc Joe and a gleam of relief came 
over his ashen face as he asked : 

"Is it Flood or is it Van Slye? " 

** It's Jagoold" answered Pete, " Sly 
and I'lood flew the coop." 

•* Oh if you could only catch them 
all I " moaned the Prolessor. 

" We will yet, if they try to follow us," 
soberly answered Johnson. 

Pete looked at Mr. Johnson. lie saw 
that the man was in earnest. Mr. John- 
son too thought that these three robbers 
were enemies in pursuit of Professor 
Wilson. 

It was near daylight. 

158 



The sun's red rays were coming up, 
grand and resplendent, right out of the 
distant plain that swept away like a tide- 
less, changeless sea. The foliage was 
dripping with dew that stood in crystal 
beads on each leaf and flower. 

Birds chirruped in the bushes or sang 
in the tree tops and the loud drumming 
of a woodpecker could be heard coming 
from an old stump across the gorge. 
The murmur of the stream seemed more 
musical than before, and the distant 
mountain tops to the west — snow-capped 
— glistened like burnished silver. The 
horses were peacefully munching their 
feed ; the donkeys were each lovingly 
scratching the other's shoulder with their 
teeth ; Pete was busily preparing breakfast. 

Very savory was the aroma of the 
coffee and very peaceful was the scene ; 
save only for a pile of something 
that lay off to one side, covered with a 
blanket. 

From under this blanket protruded 
the spurred boots of a man. 

159 



As the scout stood by the fire munch- 
ing a biscuit, which he held in 
one hand, a tin cup of coffee in 
the other, even a casual observer could 
not have failed to see two large red 
marks about his wrists. These lines 
looked like bracelets. But the exciting 
events of the night had not interfered 
with Pete's appetite. Not so Professor 
Wilson and Mr. Johnson : they sat before 
the fire silent and barely tasted the food; 
yet they seemed relieved to think that 
for the present their enemies were van- 
quished. 

Both were thinking — thinking hard. 

" It was self-defense," whispered the 
Professor. 

" Yes, they attacked us." 

" If you are arrested I think we can 
prove it." 

1 60 



" Yes, but the thought of killing a man 
— It is awful to contemplate ! " 

" Who's killed anybody," barked Pete, 
" then what if you have ! There's 
heaps o' men need killin'. 'Sides that if 
you take a look over the side o' thnt 
canyon and let your off eye run down 
the stream 'bout fifty yards you'll see 
where your man crawled up the bank — 
Just swum across and got out on t'other 
side." 

Both men ran to the edge and stared 
at the spot pointed out. It did appear as 
if the dew on the swale had been dis- 
turbed. 

" Oh, I'm relieved to think that he 
was not killed — I think he has been 
taught a lesson though," said Mr. Johnson. 

" And as for this un under the blank- 
et," continued Pete, "he had heart dis- 
ease anyhow ; but like enough he'll li\'e 
to be hung yet, for I jest seed him move 
— Wait 'till I have 'nother cup o' coffee 
and we'll set on the case — I'm a Justice 
the Peace, I am." 



Pete drank his coffee with needless de- 
liberation. Before he had finished the 
blanket was moving with animation and 
angry swear words were heard coming 
from beneath. 

" How that gentleman do cuss, it's 
what you call blas-fee-mus — But I reckon 
he won't get his claws loose — there's 
heaps o' things I can't do, but I kin 
rope ! " 

Pete stripped the blanket off and 
asked : 

" How you feelin' Joe? " 

But Joe was full of strange oaths and 
modern instances as he struggled to free 
his hands. Soon his mood turned to 
penitence and he begged that they would 
let him go, offering to pay any sum de- 
sired for sweet liberty. He protested 
that he knew nothing about the two other 
men who had tied Pete. The good old 
Professor's heart was touched by these ap- 
peals, and he suggested untying the lariat. 

" Never, never ! " shouted Pete, "he'd 
watch his chance and kill us all." 

162 



t^t £egcict>. 

Kiuse Joe shed many tears and begged 
hard for mercy, but Pete stood firm, only 
at last consenting that Mr. Johnson should 
place the man in a sitting posture. Then 
the Professor fed the prisoner — fed him 
as he might a baby — stooping before him 
and putting morsel after morsel into his 
mouth. 

About this time something was seen 
protruding from one of Joe's pockets, at 
sight of which Pete had a mock convul- 
sion and swore he was deathly sick, 

" My innards haint right. I feel as if 
I had been bit by a ratder," h-e groaned. 

He reached down and drew from the 
pocket a flask partially filled with whiskey. 
He held it up to the light, smiled and 
said : 

"Thankee, I never drink, but seein* 
it's you, Joe, and you was so kind as to 
fetch it for me — purpose for me — here's 
looking at you and hopin' you'll find your 
horses." 

A prolonged gurgle was heard and the 
Hask was well nigh emptied. 

163 



" It's dam poor stuff," said Pete medi- 
tatively, " that is to say all whiskey is 
good but some is gooder than others. 
This is not the best, but just fairlee good. 
I'm sorry I've nothin' better to offer you, 
gents ! " 

He passed the bottle to the Professor, 
who declined it : next to Mr. Johnson. 
Johnson took the bottle and flung it far 
into the bushes. 

Pete stared hard, but he met a gaze 
that was as steady as his own. Then he 
smiled — a smile that drew a trifle tight 
around the corners of his mouth. Then he 
whistled, and reaching over, a well worn 
pack of cards was brought out of one of 
Joe's bootlegs where it kept company 
with the plug of tobacco. 

Squatting on the ground he pushed his 
sombrero on the back of his head, shuf- 
fled the cards, and solemnly holding 
them out to the Professor asked him to 
cut. 

" I have no knife," answered the old 
gentleman. 

164 



The scout made no answer but shuffled 
again and dealt out three piles of five 
cards each. Then he turned the hands 
and announced with dignity straight at 
Kiuse Joe : 

" Pris'ner, you've been caught in the 
act, holdin' up the most innercent gent in 
this neck o' woods— There's no defens 
and in order that perfect justice be did 
(for I'm a Justice of the Peace) I've 
throwed the kyards to see whether it's 
the canyon, the lariat or the Mazeppy 
act, and on a square deal it's the lariat 
and may God have mercy on your soul ! " 
The prisoner grew livid and the sweat 
started out on his forehead. The terror 
on his face would have moved a heart of 
stone. He tried to plead, to beg, to pray, 
but the words were only a confused jum- 
ble. Then he coughed as a cow does 
when she has found feathers in her hay. 
Pete was adamant. Like most ignorant 
men he at times considered himself a 
section of the Day of Judgment, and his 
sense of justice thus smothered his 

165 



charity. Johnson very imperfectly un- 
derstood the little speech of Rattlesnake 
Pete but he guessed its import. 

" What are you going to do with 
him?" 

No answer, but a series of pantomimic 
moves ending with an upward jerk of one 
thumb above his head. 

"You mean to hang him? " 

" I'm sorry, but the kyards decided 
it ! " 

" But you suggested some other form 
of punishment? " 

*' Yes, the canyon ! " 

" Throw him over the canyon? Hor- 
rible ! it would be murder." 

" Yes, I know it's murder — you sent 
one feller over yourself before break- 
fast ! " 

" I ? But I had too, man : but what is 
that other you mentioned?" 

" Oh, the Mazeppy act — don't you 
know? a young feller read us about it 
from a book up at Brown's Ranch — 
used to read ev'ry night in the winter in 

i66 



the bunk house. It's a way the injuns in 
Turkey have. — Tie a man on his horse 
and send him off ! " 

** If we tie this man on his horse would 
the horse take him home? " 

" In course." 

" Well, we will tie him on his horse 
and send him home ! " 

" But 'bout the kyards ! " 

" What about the cards? " 

" They say hang him ! " 

" Yes, we will send him home," broke 
in the old Professor, " we will send him 
home. Perhaps he has a wife" 

" Lord help him, yes — he has a wife, I 
forgot !" Pete smiled a cynical bachelor 
leer. 

" We will send him home," again spoke 
Mr, Johnson. 

Pete turned and looked at Johnson. 
He saw something in his face that he had 
not discovered before. Pete prided 
himself on being a judge of human na- 
ture — now inwardly he acknowledged he 
had been mistaken, mightily mistaken : 

167 



Johnson was no weakling. " We*ll send 
him home — to his wife ! " echoed Pete. 

" Oh, God bless you, boys — gents I 
mean — God bless you. I'm sick, send 
me home." This gutteral roar of thanks 
came from the prisoner. 

Pete heeded him not but repeated as 
if speaking to himself : 

** We'll send him home — we'll send 
him home — we'll tie him on a horse and 
send him home on the I^amb." 

" Oh ! for heaven's sake, not the Lamb. 
I'm an old man — I'm forty-six las* June. 
He'll kill me — one buck and I'm done, 
or he'll lay down and roll with me. Oh ! 
Oh ! ! Oh ! ! ! " groaned the Kiuse. 

" We'll send him home on the Lamb," 
repeated Pete as he very deliberately 
filled his pipe. '' Have a smoke, Joe? " 

Joe was getting more quiet and signi- 
fied his desire to smoke. A pipe was 
fished out of one of his pockets and 
filled by the Professor's own hands. Then 
Johnson dragged the unfortunate man to 
a bowlder near by where he could be 

i68 



propped up, the pipe was placed in his 
be-whiskered mouth. Pete lighted the 
pipe and the fellow puffed away with 
genuine relish. 

Pete had gone off toward the horses ; 
and now that matters had taken on L 
more agreeable outlook the Professor and 
Mr. Johnson turned towards breakfast. 
Suddenly a pistol shot rang out. 
Johnson and Professor Wilson dropped 
their tin cups and the Professor jumping 
with alarm started to run. Turning to 
glance back he was much relieved to see 
Pete laughing. But Kiuse Joe did not 
smile. He spoke and Mr. Johnson no- 
ticed that he was no longer smoking. 

" It's a dirty trick Pete, you know dam 
well I never shot a pipe out o' your 
mouth ! " 

Pete had now taken the saddle from 
Joe's horse and was putting it on the 
Lamb. Joe's horse was a good one- 
worth two such as the Lamb. 

Pete called Mr. Johnson over to him 
and explained that the horse called the 
169 



Lamo was so called on account of its 
docility — when away from Dead Horse 
City. 

" A reg'lar pet — a ladies' horse. If I 
was married I'd buy him for my mother- 
in-law." 

" You see," continued Pete, *' I bought 
all o' these animiles of Joe, and through 
mistake I got the Lamb 'stead o' the one 
there which I bought, so we'll just send 
Mister Kiuse home on the ladies' pet." 

Joe's hands were tied behind him but 
his feet were loosened so he could walk. 
Having escaped death he was partially 
reconciled to any other fate. He was 
led over to the horse that stood meekly 
awaiting its rider. A lift, a push and a 
shove and Joe was in the saddle — his feet 
tied under the horse, three wraps of the 
rope were run around his body and tied 
to the horn of the saddle and then knot- 
ted. 

" Start him easy-like — start him easy- 
like, for God's sake," groaned Kiuse 
Joe. 

170 



" Oh, he's gentle enough — don't you 
see, Johnsing?" 

"Surely the horse is very docile," said 
Mr. Johnson. " Yes, yes, very gentle, 
very gentle," echoed the old Professor. 

What was Pete doing? 

Mr. Johnson could not make it out. 
He did after a minute, but it was too 
late. Pete had worked the horse up by 
degrees near to the smouldering fire, and 
had run the ends of the lariat that re- 
mained after tying the man on, over and 
around the horse's tail and then tied the 
rope to the end of a branch of a tree 
that lay in the fire. 

Johnson tried to protest but Pete gave 
an " injun yell," at the same time kicking 
the horse and firing his revolver in the 
air. 

The frightened animal made a mad 
bound forward, kicked frantically ; the 
burning branch jumped and struck the 
rider over the head — and then there was 
only a display of fireworks, all obscured 
in a cloud of flying gravel and alkali 

171 



dust that went like a cyclone down the 
trail toward Dead Horse City. 

" I reckon," said Pete, " I reckon they 
will make the settlement in less than a 
nour at that rate ! " 



172 



VI. 



WHEN the cloud of dust marking 
the rapid progress of Kiuse Joe 
was lost to sight down the val- 
ley, the Professor heaved a sigh of relief. 
Pete was already busy putting the 
packs on the burros. Johnson was sad- 
dling the horses. The last remains of 
the smouldering fire were put out with 
water carried from the stream. 

" We ought'er been off long ago— an' 
would too, if it wasn't for that pesky 
visitor— but all through life you finds 
skeeters!" said Pete. The effect of 
Joe's whiskey was still in his blood and 
he gave a ra, ta, ta, ta, ra, ta— bugle call 
in imitation of "Boots and saddles." 

The Professor tried to mount, but his 
legs were too stiff and sore to accomplish 
the feat. The hard ride of the day be- 
fore had chafed and bruised his anatomy 



173 



until he could not sit in the saddle with- 
out positive misery. 

" I didn't live two years with the 
Siouxs for nothin'," remarked Pete, and 
this worthy proceeded to cut two tall, 
slender young cottonwood trees, that were 
soon divested of their branches. These 
poles were placed on either side of the 
Professor's horse and fastened by an 
improvised breast collar, thus making a 
long, springy pair of shafts, the lowef 
ends of which dragged on the ground. 
A blanket was swung between and pinned 
in place with wooden skewers. Then the 
old man was gently lifted into this home- 
made hammock and the cavalcade started. 

Winding up the gently ascending trail 
that led along the side of the mountain, 
with the guide ahead and Johnson be- 
hind to keep up the lagging burros, they 
made their way. 

For two hours they thus rode — the 
scout uttering not a word. Johnson was 
interested, just as any young man would 
be in the novelty of the scene, and now 

174 



$6e SLCQact* 

and then he called to the Professor, en- 
deavoring to arouse him from what 
seemed to be a hopeless stupor. But the 
old man lay with closed eyes and an- 
swered not. 

After five miles of slow travel they 
reached a spot where a great rock seemed 
to block the roadway. At the base of 
this mighty bowlder there was a tiny 
spring. Pete dismounted and scooping 
out the sand, lay flat down and drank ; 
Johnson did the same and the Professor 
was induced to try it too. Then more 
sand was dug out and the animals, one at 
a time, were allowed to slake their thirst. 

*' I would like to analyze this water — 
it seems to have peculiar mineral quali- 
ties." It was the first time the Profes- 
sor had shown any interest in anything 
on the route — or in fact for many days. 
Johnson was pleased. 

"Yes, yes," he answered, " and how it 
seems to gush right from the very rock 
itself." 

" As if Moses had smitten it — as he 

175 



did in the wilderness of Zin. I must 
make a note of it for the class." 

" P'rhaps Mose did it, it's the wilder- 
ness of sin anyway," spoke Pete, who 
was filling his pipe. 

" Ah, I'm glad you see the allusion — 
you have read Scripture?" 

"The which?" 

"Scripture — the Bible." 

" Oh, yes — that is — we alius swear 
folks on a bible in court — I'm a Justice 
of the Peace, I am." 

The old man had seated himself on a 
ledge by the roadside and was looking 
out across the valley. 

" I was trying to think, Mr. Johnson, 
who the gentleman was who had break- 
fast with us this morning — what was his 
name did you say? " 

" I do not know his name, he was a 
robber." 

"A thief and a robber? no, no, he 
was insane — you tied his hands — too bad, 
too bad, we should have cared for him. 
Was it Van Slye?" 

176 



" No, it was not Van Slye." 

*' Then it was Mr. Sarony? " 

" No, this man was not after 7/s, he 
wanted only our money." 

" Yes, but that is all Sarony and Van 
Slye wanted, you said, yet they tied 
my hands and would have carried me 
away had you not rescued me. Has the 
class come in yet, Mr. Johnson? Dismiss 
it please, tell them one of my old head- 
aches has come back — to-morrow at the 
same hour. Where is Celeste? — Ask her 
to come bathe my head. Yes, Celeste can 
cure it — her touch is very gentle — call 
Celeste, Mr. Johnson, call Celeste ! " 

Pete's pipe had gone out and he had 
lost all disposition to joke as he stood 
with staring eyes listening to the prattle 
of this white haired man. He could not 
make it out : he glanced at Johnson and 
thought he saw something like a tear roll- 
ing down his cheek. In presence of danger 
Pete was not afraid, and amid most emer- 
gencies was ready. In fact his senses were 
only alert when stimulated by the extraor- 

177 



dinary, but here was something that struck 
him speechless, something with which he 
could not cope. And when the old man 
laughed a loud hollow laugh that died 
away into a moan, Pete's brick-dust com- 
plexion turned yellow, and his pipe fell 
from his mouth. 

" Who is the old gent axin' for? " he 
asked Johnson in a hoarse whisper. 

" His daughter — Celeste." 

Pete turned, walked away three paces, 
placed a hand each side of his mouth 
and in a voice that might have been 
heard two miles, roared : 

" Celesty, Celesty — Oh-h-h Celesty — 
your father wants you ! " 

Then he came back to the old man 
and said in a tone that was designed to 
be gentle, " I've sent for her, Uncle, 
she'll be here in a minute." 

*' Oh, I'm glad. She can make me 
well, she knows just what I want. You 
are the Doctor, aren't you — not the one 
who tied me though — Don't let them tie 
my hands, Mr. Johnson — don't let Sarony 

178 



in if he calls, or Jay Gould — ch, ch, ch, 
ch, ch, ding, dong, ding," 

Pete put his arm around the old man 
and laid him in the hammock and then 
dipping a handkerchief in the spring he 
bathed the throbbing temples as tenderly 
as a woman might. 

" Oh, I'm so glad you are here, daugh- 
ter — dear Celeste, your old father needs 
you — I knew you would come, your touch 
has healing in it," and the helpless man 
held tight to the calloused and grimy 
hand of Rattlesnake Pete, 

" Yes, daddy, Vm here — Pll stand by 
you — I'm here — I'll take care of you." 
The scout paused and gulped hard as he 
tried to think of something to do. 
" Yes, daddy, I'll take keer on you — dam 
me if I won't." 

The sudden illness of the Professor 
had quite unnerved Mr. Johnson and he 
could only look on in dismay. 

** It's good twenty mile to the next 
water, we must light out to wunst," said 
Pete. 

179 



" Can't we stay here? The Professor 
may die on the road," answered John- 
son. 

" No feed here — we have got to git. 
Th' ole man has a hell of a fever — but if 
we kin make The dlades we kin take kecr 
on him." 

So they covered the sick man with 
twigs and green branches, placing a wet 
cloth about his head, and started for- 
ward. 'Ihe sun had now come out hot 
and the alkali dust arose in clouds from 
the dragging feet of the tired animals. 
All that long, lonesome afternoon they 
rode in the scorching heat and Pete 
spoke never a word. Now he rode 
ahead, then he would swing around behind 
to club along the lazy burros. No sight 
of animal life was to be seen, save a soli- 
tary wheeling buzzard that floated on 
outstretched wings through the sultry air 
and seemed to follow the travelers. 

The sun was already lost behind the 
mountains when " The Glades " was 
reached. A small plateau, it was, of 

I So 



green grass and wild sunflowers and sev- 
eral tall trees that were watered by the 
melted snow on the mountain side. 

But the one thing that gave a quaint 
picturesqueness to the scene was a de- 
serted house, made of logs clumsily put 
together and chinked with the hard yel- 
low soil. The house had a dirt roof that 
had partially fallen in. There was one 
big room but no windows and the struc- 
ture was built solidly as if to withstand a 
siege, either from an armed force or a 
howling storm, or both. The heavy bat- 
tened door responded to the guide's kick 
and swung open on its creaking wooden 
hinges. An owl flew out with a screech 
of alarm, and bats disturbed dashed 
toward the chimney. There were bunks 
of rough boards along one end of the 
room and a big fire-place at the opposite 
end made from logs and plastered over 
with mud; a dirt floor pounded down 
hard, but not a vestige of furniture. 
Several of the berths were partially filled 
with dried leaves, howing that other 

i8i 



occupants had used the camping ground. 
Into one of these bunks the old man was 
placed : he was now so weak he could 
scarcely lift his head. 

Johnson made a fire in the fire-place, 
for the air was already getting chilly, and 
Pete went out to attend the animals. 
Part of the camping outfit was brought 
inside and it was not long before supper 
was ready. The sick man ate very little, 
but after his clothing had been removed 
and he had been rolled up by Pete in 
warm woolen l)lankets, his fever seemed 
to subside and in half an hour he broke 
out into a gentle perspiration and fell 
asleep. 

The guide and Mr. Johnson sat before 
the fire that sent long fitful streaks danc- 
ing among the rafters overhead. Pete 
smoked in silence — something seemed to 
be weighing on his mind. At last he 
spoke : 

" See here pardner — you're white — 
there's not much style 'bout you, and 
you aint good lookin' but you air on the 

182 



squar. An' so am I. But I acted like a 
fool this mornin', I'm a fool anyway, 
but when in licker I'm a dam fool. 
That's why I chinned so. Now I'm 
done — will you shake? " 

So they shook hands — did these two. 
This man who could not read print 
without it was "easy;" and the man 
who spoke Greek and Latin as readily as 
his native tongue. They shook hands 
in the grim light of the dying fire, in 
that windowless cabin, and they looked 
into each other's faces and they each saw 
mirrored in the eyes of the other the 
soul of a brave and honest man. 

They were vastly different yet alike. 
They both had the fearlessness of inno- 
cence, they both had lived in solitude — 
one the solitude of nature, the other the 
solitude of books. Neither knew the 
wisdom of the world — both lived near to 
nature's heart, and they were each made 
of the stern stuff of which martyrs and 
heroes are made. Neither was aware 
that sentiment or poetry had any place in 

i33 



t^ £egac^. 

his heart, but that hand-clasp in the 
night, as the sick man slept and the moon 
and mountain kept guard outside, was 
filled with an affection so disinterested, 
so sincere, that a maiden might have 
coveted it. 

" Johnsing — you're a man, I've knowed 
it all day and I thought my heart would 
bust if I didn't tell you I was sorry I 
made fun o' you. Vou come from the 
States and 1 know that heaps of good 
men git in trouble thar. Never mind, 
I'm your friend ! It may be you held up 
a train, or the old man might have been 
pres'dent of a bank and you cashier and 
you scooped the wad — but you had a 
perfect right to do it — that's what I'll 
maintain 'gainst all hell ! Or it may be 
a woman case — no matter, you needn't 
tell me, it's your business, not mine. This 
is your money in my shirt, all the ani- 
miles and campin' kit is yourn and I'm 
your friend ! " 

So they shook hands again, and then 
they tiptoed over to the bunk where the 

184 



sick man slept. Pete turned down the 
blanket and these two men looked at the 
anxious furrowed face in its wreath of 
white hair, just as fond parents take a 
loving good-night look at their sleeping 
babe. 

Then these men looked at each other 
and smiled for they knew that all was well. 
They covered the old man as they might 
a child, and Johnson climbed into one of 
the bunks while Pete rolled himself in a 
blanket and with a rifle in his grasp, lay 
down against the door with the big awk- 
ward wooden hinges. 

And so they slept — slept seven hours 
without waking ; slept until the bats and 
the big white owl, who in partnership 
owned the cabin, saw signs of approach- 
ing day and made haste to come flying 
homeward, and with noisy flap of wing 
sail in at the hole in the roof ; each to 
find his own soft place to hang or roost 
until sunset should come again. 



185 



VII. 

PETE awakened with a start — stood 
up, stretched himself ** to get the 
sleepy feeling out of his tips " and 
then stirred the smouldering fire. 

The old gentleman looked out from his 
bunk with an air of bewilderment. 

"Hello, Uncle," called Pete, "aint this 
jest right, parlor, sittin' room, kitchen an' 
upstairs all in one ! " 

" Is it your house, Mr. Snake? " 

" Yes, in course — my wife is on a visit 
to her mother, so things aint jest right but 
we can git along I reckon ! " 

" How did we get here — I do not re- 
member ! " 

" Oh, you was a leetle lush las' night — 
so you do not recoleck." 

" I do not understand, Mr. Snake ! " 

" Well, never mind — you're all squee- 
dunk now — aint he Johnsing? " 

i86 



Mr. Johnson had just finished drawing 
on his boots and had now placed one 
hand tenderly on the forehead of the old 
man. 

" Your expression is a trifle technical, 
Mr. Snake, but if you intend to say that 
Professor Wilson is much better, I cer- 
tainly most heartily agree with the senti- 
ment." 

The scout was perplexed. I 

" Once more please ! " 

Johnson repeated the remark exactly 
as he had at first stated it. 

<'Is he sick? " 

" No," answered Johnson. 

" Well, why in tarnashun couldn't you 
say so then?" 

Johnson assisted the old man to dress 
and after bathing his face with water 
brought from the spring, seated him be- 
fore the fire-place. The boxes contain- 
ing provisions were used for chairs. 

Pete had seen that the horses were all 
right. The sick man was much better ; 
the morning was beautiful and Pete was 

187 



in good humor. A man who can joke 
before breakfast is not wholly depraved. 

" Wall, gents, what will you have for 
breckfuss — jest name it and the cook will 
purceed to do the act," and he made 
pretense of balancing the skillet on his 
nose. 

Mr. Johnson and the Professor con- 
ferred together in an undertone for a 
moment while Pete busied himself among 
the packages. 

" Mr. Snake," said Johnson, "for my- 
self I will take fish balls, toast and baked 
beans. The Professor will take the same 
except that he wants the toast brown on 
one side only — Two cups then of the 
Health coffee — one cup weak." 

Pete stood silent, then made a show of 
looking for a club. 

" And gents, may I ax where the 
Health coffee is?" 

" In this box." 

Pete knocked the lid off from the box 
and proceeded to examine the contents 
of the packages. After smelling, tasting 
,00 



and looking at it he declared that the 
stuff was not coffee at all. 

At times Pete was as quarrelsome as 
an English sparrow ; and this happened 
to be one of the times. 

" Of course it is not coffee, it is a 
patent preparation made from bran. It 
is a brain food — rich in phosphates and 
especially strengthening for the nerves ! " 

" An' yet you call it coff ! " argued 
Pete. 

" Why, yes." 

" Gents, kin you make coff outer brown 
paper with the help of a yaller label an' 
a paste brush? " persistently asked the 
guide. 

" We are from Boston," answered the 
Professor. 

" An' this codfish — what's that fer — to 
bait traps fer skunks? " 

*' It contains a large per cent of phos- 
phorous and " 

" Wall, gents, none of it goes into my 
spider — It's pizen — rank pizen." 

But all the while Pete was making the 

189 



Health coffee and putting the codfish in 
the skillet preparatory to cooking it. 

Then he knocked the cover off of a 
box marked Bunker Hill Baked Beans. 

A can was opened and the contents 
examined. 

** It's the color of a cinnamon bar and 
smells like buzzard bait, but if you say 
warm it, I'll warm it." 

" We say warm it." 

** Wall I say dam it, but here she 
goes ! " 

And so he warmed the beans and 
boiled the coffee, all the time swearing 
that he would do neither and declaring 
he would go out and browse on cactus 
before he would eat such stuff. But 
when he poured out the coffee he filled 
three cups. Then he set the skillet of 
beans on a box and all three men drew 
up seats and began to eat, dipping into 
the skillet with forks. Pete ate as much 
as the other two and was pouring out his 
third cup of the Health coffee when Mr. 
Johnson asked ; 

190 



" Mr. Snake, how far away is the near- 
est grocery? " 

" Oh — not far — 'bout sixty mile — 
shall I run over and git you five cents 
worth o' chewin' gum? " 

" No, Mr. Snake, but from the way 
you eat our provisions will not last long." 

*' Don't mind me, Johnsing — This sort 
of grub is what made you and the old 
man sick. I'm tryin' to git er outer the 
way." 

" So we see." 

This response came from the two men : 
they spoke exactly in unison : evidently 
through some mystic psychic influence. 

" How much tobacco did you bring 
gents? " 

" We never use tobacco — it's a filthy, 
dirty weed," spoke the Greek chorus. 

"Oh, you don't say! " 

" Yes, only one worm in the whole 
realm of entomology will eat it" 

" Wall, count me in as jest that sort o' 
worm o' the dust." 

*' We will, we will." 

191 



Still they spoke as one man. It startled 
the guide. He roared out : 

" This is no singin' school ! you give 
me gooseflesh ! Can't you talk 'cept like 
twins? " 

" We can, we can ! " 

This was too much for Pete's nerves. 
He strode out of the door, somewhat 
hastily, on pretense of looking after the 
horses. 

He soon came back and after eyeing 
his charges sus])iciously, entered and took 
the skillet of codfish off from the fire. 
But neither the Professor nor Mr. Johnson 
cared to eat it. It seemed to be burned 
or something. 

" It's not like my mother used to 
make," said Johnson after smelling of it, 

" Don't throw up to me what your 
mother uster make ! " spoke the guide 
peevishly. 

" I might if I ate much of your cook- 
ing." 



192 



yiii. 

A SUMMER morning in the Rocky 
Mountains is a foretaste of heav- 
en. The first warm rays of the 
sun are so grateful — they seem to liber- 
ate a delicious quality in the atmosphere 
that soothes, invigorates, and half intoxi- 
cates. On some systems its acts Hke 
laughing gas. Then things always look 
better after breakfast anyway ; and when 
Mr. Johnson led the old gentleman out of 
the cabin and they sat down on a great 
rock in the sunshine and looked across 
the stretch of mesa, they each clasped 
the hand of the other as lovers might in 
recognition of a mutual joy. 

So they sat hand in hand contemplat- 
ing the scene. The old gentleman was 
very sore and lame from his much shak- 
ing up in the hammock : he could not 
ride on horseback. 



193 



B 13 



t^c feegacg. 

" Never mind, I'll buy him an elephant 
and a velvet cushioned what-do-you-call- 
it for him to ride in," said Pete with 
mocking irony. 

" You mean a howdah," spoke up Mr. 
Johnson. 

" Yes, a howdy do," answered Pete. 

But an idea was buzzing in Johnson's 
brain and after a little while he called the 
guide and explained a wonderful plan he 
had conceived. It was to make a how- 
dah in which the Professor could ride at 
ease. 

" I b'lieve you air from Boston," en- 
quired Pete. 

*' We are from Boston," came the con- 
certed reply. 

" Wall then, git out your saw and 
square and auger and gimlet and screw- 
driver and post hole digger and jack 
plane and chalk line and adze and ax and 
buzz saw and make yer howdydo while 
me and the Professor does suthin' prac- 
tical ; I go a fishin' — come on Uncle ! " 

The old gentleman looked at Johnson, 

194 



who signified that he might follow the 
guide if he wished. 

Pete produced fishing tackle from mys- 
terious hiding places and set about to 
catch grasshoppers for bait. The warm 
sun had gotten the 'hoppers wide awake, 
and the Professor, following the scout's 
example, strove industriously after the 
unattainable. Soon Johnson saw his two 
companions stroll down the bank of the 
creek and disappear among the willows. 

Every invention first finds form in a 
thought. With his inward eye Johnson 
saw his howdah complete. The idea be- 
ing developed it must next be material- 
ized. He went into the cabiia and quickly 
knocked one of the bunks to pieces to 
get the boards. He then dipped these 
boards in the stream, wetting them thor- 
oughly to a length he desired, then hold- 
ing the ends in the fire they were burned 
off to the requisite dimensions. He 
took a gun cleaner and heating it red hot 
burned holes in them ; weaving in strips 
•of bark, peeled with the help >©£ his knife 

195 



from an ironwood tree. Then by placing 
a board under each end and tying it fast 
he had a platform. A saddle was put on 
the gentlest horse : a hole was burned 
through the boards so the horn of the 
saddle could go through, and when in 
position the platform reached from the 
horse's tail to his withers. Then a hole 
was burned in each of the four corners, 
a short length of stout sapling was sharp- 
ened ofT and driven in and a stretch of 
bark was run around the squared circle. 

It takes about a minute to tell this but 
it took an hour to do it. 

Johnson viewed his handiwork and 
pronounced it good. It was truly artis- 
tic but wobbled a trifle too much for 
safety to the rider. 

The fishermen had not yet returned 
and the young man thought it time to 
look them up ; besides that he wanted 
them to commend the skill he had shown. 
He followed down the creek for a full 
quarter of a mile and discovered his 
friends, their trousers rolled above their 

196 



knees, sitting on the bank paddling their 
feet in the stream. 

They were discussing the Copernican 
Theory. 

The Professor had explained the mat- 
ter; and Pete, taking issue, was ventilat- 
ing his own view of the case. The argu- 
ment was getting quite warm when Mr. 
Johnson's appearance interrupted it. 

On the bank were more brook trout 
than three men could eat in a week. 

The old gentleman had found a flint 
arrow head, much to his delight, and this 
had led up to the subject of aboriginal 
handicraft and from that to the Coperni- 
can Theory by a sequence unexplainable. 
. " The aborigines never made a howdah 
like mine though," said Johnson, " Come 
and see ! " 

The old gentleman carrying his shoes 
in one hand and pressing his precious 
find in the other, picked his way bare- 
foot among the stones back to camp. 

The howdah was profusely admired. 
There was a touch of cynicism in Pete's 

197 



remarks that fortunately was lost on the 
others. 

*' Gents, you see afore you a invention 
that will do away with saddles — Let a 
horse buck and the rider turns a flip-flap 
and falls inside of his howdydo. She 
aint very firm though !" mused the guide 
as he tested the security of the scheme. 
Still in spite of the sarcasm Pete showed 
a willingness to co-operate. He brought 
a lariat and making it fast to each corner 
of the platform proceeded to cinch the 
howdah securely in place. Then he 
climbed up on it, danced a jig and de- 
clared it the wonder of the age. 

So they rested, slept and feasted. The 
big white owl dozed on a rafter in the 
cabin and the Professor sighed because 
he coukl not secure the bird for the Pea- 
body Museum ; yet he would not kill or 
disturb it. 

That night they rested well. In the 
morning Johnson said, " I go afishing." 

" No, you don't ; git to work and rope 
these packs on — we can't stay /fere/ " 

198 



" Could we not stay and recuperate 
until tomorrow ? ' ' 

" 'Cuperate, no, it's onhealthy to 'cup- 
erate — didn't you tell me thar is en'miet 
after you ? ' ' 
"Yes." 

"Wall than we must climb." 
*' But where are you going to take us?" 
" We are bound for The Las^ Standi 
Then Rattlesnake Pete explained that 
"The Last Stand" was a hillock sur- 
rounded on every side by a palisade of 
perpendicular rock ; that the top of this 
hill was a plateau of twenty acres and 
that the only approach to the summit was 
through a peculiar canyon twelve feet 
wide. Pete knew the place through In- 
dians, who had shown it to him ten years 
before. The savages thought the place 
haunted and there were certain bands of 
Apaches who came on a pilgrimage each 
seven years and offered sacrifices there. 

" They say it were wunst an injun 
town — long 'fore white men came to 
America. And a pest came and carried 

199 



off the whole dam tribe, for which let us 
all rejice — It's the only place I know 
on where three men can stand off a reg'- 
ment — and I only found it accidental. 
When you said you wanted a safe place I 
thought of The Last Stand — and Last 
Stand it is — We'll reach it in two days if 
we look sharp." 

The packs were adjusted, a final look 
was taken through the cabin for lost arti- 
cles, the fire was put out and again the 
march began. 

The Professor was assisted into his 
howdah and seated on a bean box with 
a green branch over his head for a can- 
opy, he advanced like an Egyptian king. 

But the way was rough, as the road to 
paradise, and progress slow. From time 
to time the old gentleman would get 
down and walk a little way. Then there 
were places so steep that Pete would dis- 
mount and putting his shoulder to the 
rear of one of the pack burros would 
push, directing Mr. Johnson to do the 
same with the other ; so by the help of 

200 



many adjectives and unprintable excla- 
mations from Pete they surmounted the 
obstacles that fate had placed in their 
way. 

After one such effort Johnson remarked 
to Professor Wilson sorrowfully : 

" Once I was head of my class in 
mathematics and now I am only assistant 
to a jackass." 

" Many a man serves in a like capa- 
city, but this is a case in which you had 
better be assistant than principal," an- 
swered the Professor without a smile. 

Near noon they made a short halt. As 
they were resting Johnson suddenly ex- 
claimed : 

it We've forgot something ! " 

" I know," said the Professor, " my 
glasses." 

" No." 

" Then it was my note book." 

" No, we have neglected to start a sin- 
gle train out of Omaha for two days." 

" That's so, sure enough — not since Mr. 
Snake was so abrupt in starting away." 

20I 



One hand began to go up and over — 
Pete fired his revolver in the air and 
shouted an order to move on and so they 
started again. 

It was a hard day's march, and when 
they camped at sundown the guide gave 
the glad news that The Last Stand was 
only twenty miles away. 



202 



IX. 

I'^HE next afternoon as the shadows 
began to lengthen Pete announced 
that only twelve miles had been 
made. The trail was steep, rocky, and 
in places partially barred by debris that 
had been carried down the mountain side 
by the avalanches of the spring. 

*' But, thank the Lord, we are in sight 
of the promised land," exclaimed the 
guide. 

The caravan halted and the three men 
dismounting stood on a ledge of rock 
while the scout pointed across the valley 
at a solitary hillock, faced on all sides by 
a perpendicular wall. As the men gazed 
down upon it from the moutain side it 
looked hke an island amid the sea of sage 
and chaparral. 

In the Garden of the Gods, that spot 
so interesting to the geologist, one sees in 

203 



miniature, similar formations. Fantastic 
shapes of earth-stuff, each one intent on 
expressing its one individuality; they 
defy the combined forces of snow, frost, 
sun and wind to subdue and reduce them 
to one common level. Yet all the time 
gravitation tugs — patiently biding his time, 
knowing that his prey cannot escape from 
his relentless siege. 

" That's The Last Stand, gents. That's 
whar we live when we're to home. It 
flares at the top 'cause there's a layer of 
stone there that is harder than the stuff 
below. The wind and rain can't fetch it, 
gents; the weather can't gnaw it, they 
have tried for ten thousand years. 
There's twenty acres of it and only one 
way to git up thar and that by a canyon 
what looks as if it was cut out by God 
Almighty a purpose for his childern so 
they could climb up a top and larf at 
their en'mies ! " 

** It appears like a fort — Who owns it? " 
"Gents, I won't deceive you — why 
should I — it's mine ! " 

204 



"Yours?" 

" Yes, it's mine ; I'm goin' to charge 
you a dollar a year rent for it, and when 
we leave I'll give it to you for a soov'neer 
— Three cheers for The Last Stand ! ! " 

The cheers were given, the guide fired 
a volley from his revolver, the burros 
brayed and the down grade march began 
with an energy which an hour before 
would have been thought impossible. 
The old gentleman forgot his rheumatism, 
the student his depression, the guide his 
weight of responsibility — even the horses 
partook of the joy and shook their heads 
as horses will when they draw near home. 

After an hour had passed Mr. Johnson 
called, " I say, Mr. Snake, we do not 
seem to be much nearer than we were — 
how is that? " 

" Wall, I'll tell you honest, that young 
mountain of mine has a way of slipping 
back, and if we don't go right lively we 
can never catch it." 

The explanation was not wholly satis- 
factory to Mr. Johnson ; the guide noticed 

205 



t!5e feecrac^. 

it and asked half apologetically, " How 
fur do you think we was from The Last 
Stand when we seed it first? " 

" Oh, about three miles I thought." 

" Of course that was what you thought, 
but we was just ten — If we reach it by 
dark we're lucky." 

At last the level plain was reached and 
another mile brought the weary travellers 
to the base of the hill. Skirting this for 
a ways they reached a narrow ravine. 
The walls were nearly perpendicular and 
the canyon had the appearance of an im- 
mense fissure that had been made by na- 
ture some glacial night years agone. A 
short distance up this gorge water was 
oozing from the sand. The guide with 
his hands quickly dug out a basin so the 
horses could drink, then the saddles 
were remo\'ed, the packs taken off and 
the animals turned loose ) two of them 
being hobbled. 

All about the mouth of th« ravine the 
feed was plentiful. This verdure stretched 
away to a cottonwood grove half a mile 

206 



beyond. Mr. Johnson wished to go up 
to the top of the hill at once but Pete 
ordered all hands to skirmish for buffalo 
chips. The Professor of Biology obeyed ; 
Johnson dragged in the dead top of a 
tree while the guide himself was getting 
out the " timber " for supper. Soon a 
bright fire was blazing and there came 
the aroma of coffee and the fragrant 
smell of things grateful to the senses of 
tired and hungry men. 

The trio squatted around the fire and 
ate without a word. They were too busy 
for conversation. After a time the good 
old Professor sat looking into the fire and 
began to nod like a sleepy child. Mr. 
Johnson seeing this, dug out a hole in 
the sand and spread a blanket prepara- 
tory to putting his charge to bed. 

*' What you doin' Johnsing? " asked 
the guide. 

" Going to bed." 

*' What's that — not on the ground? " 

" Of course ; where did we sleep last 



night?" 



207 



** Why, gents, I'm s'prised, I must 
send you to your rooms to wunst. 
Front ! " roared Pete. 

After every meal Rattlesnake Pete's 
playful spirit showed itself in just such 
silly banter as this. He took a delight 
in mystifying others and in telling queer 
tales and doing peculiar and wonderful 
things. Twice he had been to St. I.ouis 
with live stock and once he had visited 
Kansas City, where among other places 
he attended a sleight of hand perform- 
ance. This was an epoch in Pete's life ; 
and if he had written an article for the 
Ladies Home Journal on " Men who have 
influenced me," he would surely have put 
the juggler first on the list. 

When in good humor Pete always 
slipped off into the mysterious. Revel- 
ling in the quizzical he had covetous de- 
sires after the honors of the prestidigita- 
tor, only Pete did not call it by that 
name. 

Johnson had observed this tendency 
towards the absurd and concluded that 

208 



t^ feegac)?. 

such things could come only from an un- 
balanced mind. 

" Front," roared Pete again, " show 
the gents to leven hunderd and one ! " 

Away up the canyon came the answer- 
ing echo " Front — " and died away into 
** leven hunderd and one." 

The Professor started with affright, 

Johnson got up and walking around to 
the other side of the fire, led the guide 
a few steps back and said : 

" Mr. Snake, I beg of you to restrain 
yourself ! " 

" In course ! Front, show the gents 
to their rooms." 

" Mr. Snake, you must be calm — Here, 
I'll give you a dose of bromide of potas- 
sium and then if that does not take ef- 
fect I have chloral. I think I'll try you 
with Hyosamus first, then Canabis Indica 
or Lupuline ! " 

" Haven't you any whiskey? " 

" No, be calm, I pray you, you may 
even make a neurotic of me." 

"The which?" 



209 



B 14 



" Nervous prostration — verging on mel- 
ancholia." 

" Melon colic — who's got it? " 

** Not you, yours is hysteria with aber- 
ration and hallucinations — It may develop 
into paresis. Vou have ringing in your 
ears, see flashes of light before your eyes ; 
you have cold feet and streaks up your 
vertebra " 

" Hold on there Johnsing — how long 
have you been so? " 

** You mean the Professor — oh, about 
six months — it began just as yours is de- 
velo|")ing — great exaltation of spirits, 
then halhicinations followed with depres- 
sion. Now I have studied Nervous Dis- 
orders carefully — I can bring you around 
all aright — Depend on it I will never de- 
sert you " 

"You won't desert me?" 

" No." 

" I wish you would — if I stay with you 
I may catch it ! " 

"Catch what?" 

" This crazy business." 

2IO 



" Be calm — I'll stand by you." 

" Why, man, I'm the only feller in the 
party what's got any wits." 

" Of course, that is one of your hallu- 
cinations, but I can cure you." 

" Tell me now how I'm off my ca- 
base?" 

*' You mean to ask how I know you are 
not right in your head? " 

"Yes." 

" Well, I've been watching you closely 
— you fed our oatmeal to the horses ! " 

" But what in thunder is oats fur — not 
fur a man to chew. He might as well 
eat hay ! " 

" Oatmeal is rich in carbon — stimu- 
lates the digestive ganglia and is " 

" Johnsing, I've been watching you 
close — you're off your nut, but I'll stand 
by you — be calm." 

" Me ! I'm the only sane man in the 
party ! " 

" Of course — why did you claw the 
air and go ch, ch, ch, ch, the first time I 
saw you? " 

211 



" Never mind that, Mr. Snake, it's a 
way I have. Tell me why did you sprin- 
kle tobacco over that codfish you cooked 
for us the other day? " 

" Codfish aint fit to eat nohow — it's 
pizen, no fish that lives in salt water is 
good — They are like buzzards and crows 
and ravens and eagles and kyutes " 

" Never mind the lecture now Mr. 
Snake — You are wrong in your head be- 
cause you talk to yourself and chuckle 
and call to people who are not near " 

" And you have clammy hands, and 
headache, and nightmare, and see streaks, 
and hear railroad trains, and buzzin' and 
toot in', and whoopin' and snortin' and 
ringin' " 

" And you call ' Front, show the gen- 
tlemen their rooms,' when there is not a 
room within fifty miles " 

" Hold on there Johnsing — come with, 
me." 

The guide seized a burning brand and 
taking Johnson by the arm they walked 
about fifty feet up the canyon. Here 

212 



the flaming torch was placed between 
two stones and Pete scrambled up on a 
pile of broken rocks that were heaped 
against the crumbling wall. He motioned 
that Johnson should follow. They began 
to tumble the stones down ; great round 
bowlders that required their combined 
strength to move, gravel, earth and bro- 
ken fragments. They worked like bea- 
vers for ten minutes. Pete went down 
and got the torch. An aperture full two 
feet square in the wall was seen. The 
scout motioned that Johnson should en- 
ter. 

"After you," said Mr. Johnson. 

Pete crawled in and Johnson followed. 
They stood in a room six feet high and 
nearly ten feet square, hewn out of the 
solid rock. 

Pete gazed at his companion triumph- 
antly and Mr. Johnson stared back in be- 
wilderment. He looked at the ceiling 
and saw that it was covered with black 
soot; the walls were scrawled with 
rude pictures and peculiar marks. He 

213 



scratched the rock with his thumb nail 
and found it to be of soft tufa. 

" Wonderful, Mr. Snake, most wonder- 
ful ; this cave was excavated by the hand 
of man, excavated a thousand years 
ago ! " 

" A thousand and seven ! " answered 
Pete. " And these buffler robes and the 
tools I left here just nine years ago last 
September, are perfectly dry." 

As he spoke he began spreading out 
the robes that were piled in the corner. 
Beneath them were several axes, picks, 
shovels and various boxes of canned 
goods. 

" Didn't I tell you I'd show you to 
your rooms? " 

But Johnson did not answer. He 
hastened down to the camp fire where 
the old man sat dozing and led him back 
by the hand, all the time telling him of 
the wonderful cave. 

But the old Professor was too full of 
sleep to be interested. . He only mum- 
bled " Yes, yes — a great cave —we'll take 

314 



it back and present it to the Peabody 
Museum — Let me take a nap, Johnson, 
call me when the class comes in " 

He stooped as ordered and crawled 
into the new found home. The student 
tenderly covered him with the buffalo 
robes. 

The guide went out to look after his 
horses and take care of the fire. When 
he came back he found his charo^es sound 
asleep, side by side, 

" They are queer ducks," murmured 
Pete, " very queer, but I'll stand by 'em, 
dam me if I don't ! " 

Then he examined his rifle, pulled off 
his boots, lay down and dreamed of go- 
ing to a sleight of hand show where the 
performer waved a wand and caused five 
hundred and seven caves to appear in 
the side of a solid stone wall. 



215 



BOOK III 







/^ 




ihe late Professor Wilson 



^riOT0aMAVg»«C » tT.O" 



THE LEGACY, 



L 

OME philosopher has said that the 
life of man is like a finger thrust 
into a stream and withdrawn, leav- 
ing no trace. You lift one man, or a 
dozen, out of the stream of life that 
crowds on Broadway and what boots it? 
Return the next day and the street looks 
exactly the same — the tide of traffic still. 
roars on. Broadway has not met with a 
loss, but perhaps there are heavy hearts 
elsewhere and listening ears that wait for 
footsteps that will never come. 

When those children called silly, child- 
ish cries after an old gentleman who was 
short of hair, and bears came out of the 
woods and devoured them, my soul does 



217 



o t 



not go out in thankfulness that the hun- 
ger of bruin's family is satisfied or that 
the old gentleman's wrath is appeased; 
but my heart is with households where 
the prattle of innocent glee is no longer 
heard, and the patter of little feet echo 
no more. So the gloom of death takes 
the place of gladness, and on my ear 
there falls a lullaby hushed to a moan. 

** Nature takes no thought of the in- 
dividual," says M. Renan. But if nature 
were a Personal Being, looking down 
upon us from the mighty distance of an- 
other world, the mad antics, strivings and 
runnings to and fro of men on the ball 
called Earth would surely strike this Be- 
ing as very funny. 

Here we have two of these insignificant 
mites calling themselves " men,' ' suddenly 
running away and hiding themselves 
somewhere. At once there is a great 
commotion among the mites left behind 
over the affair, just as when you jab your 
cane into an ant hill. Mighty efforts are 
put forth to bring the two runaways back. 

218 



In heaven's name ! why bring them back 
— are there not more left than can be 
fed? 

But to us who are yet on earth there is 
such a thing as the brotherhood of man. 
We cannot get away from it — when one 
suffers all suffer ; and these painful sep- 
arations, these awful strivings after right 
adjustment, these frantic efforts for har- 
mony, are tragedies as dark and deep and 
sad as can be woven from the warp and 
woof of mystery and death. 

Yet we are philosophers and therefore 
must perceive that there is an undertone 
of comedy even in the tragic. 

When James Russell Lowell was ill 
with the malady whose cure was the 
grave, he listened, one sleepless night, to 
the scramble and squeal of mice as they 
scampered through the space between 
plaster and floor. " Some dandy mouse 
has eloped with a grey-beard's wife — 
What a commotion the neighbors do 
make over it ! " and the poet smiled as 
he speculated on the scandal ; for even 

219 



the approach of death could not still his 
laughter. 

His thoughts were not unlike those of 
"the Aristophanes of Heaven," who 
Heine says is probably amusing himself 
watching our gyrations. 

Hence it happens as I relate the sol- 
emn truth of actual events, an occasional 
smile cannot be restrained. And because 
I smile let no hasty soul accuse me of 
frivolity. Philosophers are above the 
frivolous — if they smile, it is because 
they have a true sense of values. In the 
most intense scene of Macbeth, Shakes- 
peare introduces the tipsy porter; in 
Hamlet we have Polonius and the jolly 
grave diggers ; Mercutio dies a punning ; 
Lear has its fool ; and in the sublime 
tragedy of Faust, Mephisto is half clown. 

A Httle seriousness is a dangerous 
thing : a great deal is absolutely fatal. 
And so let us proceed with the story. 

On that eventful night when Professor 
Wilson and Mr. Johnson disappeared 
they left behind them two very much 

220 



astonished doctors, a wife in hysterics, a 
screaming servant, a dozen neighbors, and 
a promiscuous crowd of strangers, each of 
whom gave advice, and all had a theory. 

As for Celeste Wilson, she was picked 
up out of the mud by three strange men 
and was being carried into the house 
when she managed to free herself from 
her captors and stand on her feet. Her 
injuries, strange to say, were very slight, 
and if she was cut by the hoofs of the 
horse and her fragile form bruised by the 
wheels of the vehicle that passed over 
her, no one ever knew it. She walked up 
the stairs alone and into her room, lock- 
ing the door, where she proceeded to di- 
vest her face of the mud, that filled her 
hair and eyes, and to put on clean attire. 

The front door was open and the par- 
lor full of men and women, talking and 
explaining to the fresh arrivals how it all 
happened. Some said there had been a 
burglary, others that it was only a family 
row. One woman explained that Celeste 
Wilson was trying to elope but had been 

221 



Ccaiight in the act and brought back. A 
crowd always attracts a crowd — more 
people came — neighbors rushed in, some 
in partial undress — one woman carrying 
a two-year-old child in its night clothes. 
To add to the confusion this baby set up 
a very loud and prolonged cry. 

Attention was finally focused on Mrs. 
Wilson, who sat in a corner of the parlor 
moaning and crying — '' They have stolen 
him away, they have stolen him away." 

That she was crazy was very evident, 
especially so after a man had explained 
the fact. The callers made a ring around 
her — none daring to go near until a fat 
man elbowed his way through the crowd 
and fearlessly began a cross-examination. 
But all he could get was " They have 
stolen him away, they have stolen him 
away," as she rocked back and forth. 

Then the joker, who is always present 
on such occasions, called " Look out, 
she's loose 1 " and a stampede was made 
for the door. Just at this moment a hook 
and ladder company dashed up, followed 

2 22 



by a fire engine. The bystanders began 
to carry out the furniture but The Stout 
Gentleman called ** It's all out ! " and be- 
ing a man of ready resource he explained 
to the foreman of the fire brigade that it 
was only a lamp overturned. Then he 
exhibited several imaginary burns on his 
hands as proof and asked one of the fire 
laddies if his whiskers were much singed, 
but the fireman could not see that they 
were. 

In the meantime the two young doc- 
tors who had made such an allopath exit, 
knowing that the buggy carrying the as- 
sailant had gone, had returned. They 
found something in the front hall that 
fully occupied their attention. It was the 
limp form of Mr. Sarony. His descent 
had not been straight down the stairs but 
on the bias. He had struck the railing 
and gone clear through it, falling heavily 
to the floor. Blood was oozing from his 
mouth and nose, and as one of the doc- 
tors thought there had been a pistol shot 
and the other was sure that the unknown 

22^ DX 



assailant had an uplifted dagger in his 
grasp, they thought best to examine the 
body at once for gunshot wounds and 
knife thrusts. So they dragged the man 
into the dining room and pushing the 
crowd out, placed him on the table and 
proceeded to cut off his clothing. In a 
minute the senseless form was naked, but 
the ready probes were useless, as no 
wounds were found. 

" His hide is whole," said one of the 
doctors in a non-professional, disap- 
pointed way. There was a contusion on 
top of the head, a scratch across the 
jaw, a slight scalp wound, and two front 
teeth were much missing, but the combi- 
nation offered no promise of a post mor- 
tem. 

" He don't breathe like a dead man," 
said one of the doctors as he pushed up 
one eyebrow of the patient and scruti- 
nized the pupil. " He don't breathe 
like a dead man, and by the great Austin 
Flint he's playin' possum ! " 

As the good physician made this 

224 



t^c £egac^ 

remark he drew from his vest pocket a 
small vial and drawing the cork, let fall 
two drops of aqua ammonia on the pa- 
tient's nose. There was a cough, a sneeze, 
a sputter and a damn. The man sat up 
on the table and stared wildly around. 

" How came I here? " 

" Say something else, please, they al- 
ways ask that on the stage ! " 

The doctors here turned their atten- 
tion to Mrs. Wilson, who seemed in a bad 
way, while Sarony, wrapped in the table 
cloth, glowered in silent rage. It was a 
tableau vivant that might well have served 
to illustrate an edition de luxe of Sartor 
Resartus. Just then Celeste came down 
and was vainly endeavoring to get the 
intruding strangers out of the house. 
The Stout Gentleman came to her rescue 
and threatened, ordered, pushed and 
hustled until the rooms were cleared. 

The hurry-up-wagon drove up sharp 
and two policemen appeared on the 
veranda just as the front door was being 
locked. They asked for information as 

225 



to the trouble. The Stout Gentleman, 
knowing that generalities would no longer 
answer, called Celeste (whose name he 
had picked up from the mother) and she 
told the guardians of the peace the facts 
and begged them to go in search of her 
father and Mr. Johnson at once. One 
of the policemen busied himself in mak- 
ing a hasty sketch of the house. As he 
opened the dining room door he discov- 
ered Mr. Sarony wrapped in his red table 
toga. Sarony was abusive and incoher- 
ent, the loss of teeth no doubt adding to 
his jumble. He cursed the officers 
roundly and dared them to touch him. 
Just then The Stout Gentleman appeared 
in the doorway. As his glance fell on the 
figure of Mr. Sarony, his face showed 
blank astonishment. 

"Who is this man?" demanded one 
of the officers. 

" Blest if I know — never saw him be- 
fore — what does he say?" 

" Won't say nawthin' — just damns ! " 

" It's no time to fool — do your duty." 

226 



The policemen looked at each other 
knowingly and without a word fell on the 
luckless Sarony and hustled him out of the 
house and into the wagon. Then they 
drove rapidly to the station to report the 
facts of the abduction and call out the 
reserves. Arriving at the station the offi- 
cers half dragged, half carried their 
precious freight into the building and 
standing one on either side of him, be- 
fore the desk, the Captain of the pre- 
cinct took down a description of the 
prisoner and ordered the officers to 
search him. 

This was a task soon performed. 

The name was entered on the blotter 
as " Charles Sarony " — in quotation 
marks — thus indicating that the officers 
considered it an alias. All hands agreed 
that the prisoner had a most villainous 
phiz and the door-keeper thought he 
recognized him as " Charles the Lifter," 
a famous crook. He was addressed as 
" The Lifter," and although he hotly re- 
pudiated the title it was placed on the 

227 



blotter after his name. Then he was 
catechized as to his share in the abduc- 
tion and as to why he was on the prem- 
ises. His answers were very contradic- 
tory — in fact his confusion was clear 
proof of his guilt. He was told that his 
partners in the crime had been caught 
and that they had confessed, implicating 
him, but still he maintained a dogged 
persistence in his assertions of innocence. 
The wound in his head had started bleed- 
ing and the house surgeon, who happened 
to be present, examined the cut and was 
obliged to shave one entire side of the 
man's head in order to properly apply 
the adhesive plaster. More adhesive 
plaster was used for the scratch on his 
chin — all at the expense of the state. 
Sarony was then locked in a cell awaiting 
the arrival of the Superintendent of Po- 
lice, for whom they had sent. 

It was near an hour before this digni- 
tary arrived. He at once questioned Mr. 
Sarony. He soon decided he would 
take the prisoner back to the house for 

228 



identification. A tramp's cast off suit of 
clothing was found for the alleged abduc- 
tor, and arrayed in this and handcuffed 
to an officer, the pair, with the Superin- 
tendent behind, made their way to the 
Wilson residence. On the way Sarony 
explained that Mrs. Wilson and he were 
personal friends — in fact he was her con- 
fidential adviser, and was in her house as 
a friend when he was so ruthlessly as- 
saulted. 

"Very well — say no more — if Mrs. 
Wilson says you are all right that is all 
there is of it." 

When the residence was reached it 
was very evident that the household was 
astir. The servant girl answered the 
ring and the Superintendent asked for 
Mrs. Wilson. By the use of stimulants 
that worthy lady had arrived at a degree 
of calmness. She walked out into the 
hall alone ; and as she appeared Mr. Sar- 
ony, having the true instincts of a gen- 
tleman, removed his hat. At a glance 
the woman saw the shining gilt of the 

229 



Superintendent's uniform and the officer 
in citizen's clothes ; then her quick eye 
fell on the wickedest piece of grinning 
humanity that she had ever seen. The 
room swirled before her, the floor gave a 
list to starboard, she threw her hands 
above her head and in a wild scream she 
shouted " They have caught him, they 
have caught the man who stole my Chilo !" 
and fell to the floor in a dead faint. 

The Superintendent gave a quick nod 
to his subordinate, who was just on the 
point of marching the prisoner back to 
the lock-up, when one of the doctors 
who had not yet left the house appeared. 
The doctor identified Sarony and request- 
ed the officers to liberate him. But the 
Superintendent would not do so until 
Miss Celeste had fully vouched for the 
man. Then the handcuffs were removed 
and half apologies made by the Superin- 
tendent, who warned Mr. Sarony that he 
might yet be wanted. 

The Stout Gentleman here came forth 
and shook Mr. Sarony by the hand, con- 

2^0 



gratulating him on his innocence, in 
which he had believed all the time, and 
begging ten tliousand pardons for his own 
insignificant part in the blunder. 

'' These things will happen," he said, 
and smilingly explained that he himself 
had not arrived on the scene until after 
the abduction — Otherwise the rogues 
might not have been so successful in 
their nefarious scheme — Never had had 
the pleasure of meeting Mr. Sarony be- 
fore, but often had heard of him and al- 
ways in high terms of praise. Just a mis- 
understanding — that is all, but the 
past is past. The future we cannot 
reach, the past we cannot recall, the 
present only is ours, as the poet has said 
and wisely said. Now what to do? that's 
the question — what to do : — it's a condi- 
tion, not a theory, that confronts us. It 
is after two o'clock — no use of going 
to bed, better just decide on what to do 
and then do it. The past is past — what 
to do? That is the question. Professor 
Wilson is gone. I myself have 

231 



thoroughly searched the house — no Pro- 
fessor Wilson — now what to do ? In the 
meantime suppose we step into the din- 
ing room and take a drop of something 
at the sideboard"* * * * * 

The Superintendent of Police was a 
man of few words but he fully agreed 
with The Stout Gentleman that the past 
was past ; further, it would be well to get 
at the facts at once and decide on what 
to do ; and there was no special objec- 
tion to the sideboard. 

The company followed The Stout Gen- 
tleman to the dining room, where he 
placed chairs for them around the table. 
Then he ordered the servant girl, whom 
he familiarly addressed as " Liz," to bring 
m "a little cold meat or something." 
Celeste assisted the tearful servant, who 
was much excited by the presence of the 
policemen, in bringing in an acceptable 
lunch. 

The Stout Gentleman found a bottle 
in the sideboard and he, Mr. Sarony and 
the doctor took something for their 

233 



$0e fcegacg. 

stomach's sake. The Stout Gentleman 
insisted on all sitting down. He sat at 
one end of the table, the Superintendent 
of Police at the other. Seated on one 
side were the doctor and Mrs. Wilson, 
who had revived from her faint, and the 
servant girl " Liz ; " on the other side 
were the patrolman, Mr. Sarony and Miss 
Celeste. No one could be excused — a 
conference must be held and the facts 
arrived at — Would the Superintendent of 
Police get Mrs. Wilson's story first? 

The good woman began with the time 
of her marriage and offered to show the 
certificate, but The Stout Gentleman told 
her that this, for the present, would be 
waived, and quickly brought her down to 
date. Then she rehearsed the facts con- 
cerning the Professor's illness — his aber- 
ration of mind — his hallucinations — how 
a consultation of physicians had been 
held and the decision reached that he 
should be sent to an Insane Asylum. 
When all at once a man rushed in 

"Hold on, Mrs. Wilson," said The 

233 



t^jc £c3ac^ 

Stout Gentleman, "not too fast — what 
kind of a man? " 

" Why a large man — a man about seven 
feet high — he pitched Mr. Sarony down 
stairs, then seized my Chilo " 

" Be calm, Mrs. Wilson — be calm — 
these things will happen." 

But Mrs. Wilson could go no further — 
she fell to weeping and the doctor asked 
that she might be excused until after the 
other witnesses had been examined. 

The Stout Gentleman excused her. 

Celeste explained that she did not see 
the man enter the house but she saw him 
pass out of the door carrying her father. 
The man was Joshua Johnson and he 
surely was insane. They were both in- 
sane. She thought that Mr. Johnson had 
been so much with Professor Wilson that 
through excess of sympathy he had par- 
taken of Professor Wilson's hallucina- 
tions, and that he (Mr. Johnson) had 
carried Professor Wilson away to keep 
him out of the hands of supposed ene- 
mies. 

234 



On cross examination the fact was 
brought out that there was no money in 
the pockets of the old gentleman's cloth- 
ing — possibly a note book and a pair of 
gold glasses were in a pocket of the coat 
— but the young lady was not certain. 

The servant had only seen the buggy 
as it was driven away. She saw the vehi- 
cle run over Miss Celeste and she felt 
sure that Miss Wilson's dress was ruined. 
She also knew that Mr. Sarony had broken 
seven railings out of the banisters. 

The doctor next gave testimony. He 
told how he had grappled with the as- 
sailant, who was a powerful man, weigh- 
ing over two hundred. The assailant 
produced a knife, when the doctor was 
compelled to flee for his life. He never 
saw the man before and did not care to 
again — he did not appear as if insane, 
more Hke one possessed of a devil. The 
Stout Gentleman made a note of this. 
The doctor had run down the back stairs 
and around the house, hoping to head 
the villain off before he could escape, 

235 



but when he got around the front veranda 
the buggy was just disappearing. His 
opinion was that the abduction was made 
in the hope of a ransom. The man who 
planned the villainy had certainly resorted 
to " heroic " measures in order to raise 
money, and when caught his punishment 
should be severe. 

Then Mr. Sarony gave his testimony. 
He explained just how he was holding 
the frantic Professor when suddenly he 
was seized and dragged by two men to 
the door and thrown down stairs. He 
exhibited his shaven scalp and absence of 
teeth as proof. Johnson — Joshua John- 
son was the assailant. 

The Superintendent asked several 
questions and then The Stout Gentleman 
took the witness in hand and had him 
repeat the whole story over again. Then 
he asked about Johnson — who he was — 
what he was — his relations to the Wilsons 
and his relations with Mr. Sarony. The 
witness answered at length. 

A bright thought here came to Mr. 

236 



$0e SLCc^ac'^. * 

Sarony. His glassy eyes glowed — he 
straightened up in his chair — cleared his 
throat — reduced his voice to a hoarse 
whisper and said : ^' Joshua Johnson ap- 
peared at my father's Bank in New York 
last Thursday and cashed Chilo Wilson's 
check to bearer for fifteen thousand dol- 
lars ! ! " 

"What's that?" 

He repeated the remark. Did Mrs. 
Wilson know about this? No, she did 
not. Nor Celeste? No. They had 
seen nothing of the money and had no 
knowledge of the transaction. 

The Stout Gentleman closed one eye 
and looked across the table with the 
other at the Superintendent of Police for 
a full minute. Then he stood up and 
announced that the inquiry was closed. 

" But — but you do not think that Mr. 
Johnson has stolen this money do you? " 
interposed Celeste. 

" Oh, no — I do not f/iin/c so — he has — 
that's all ! " 

"And my father?" 

237 



" Well, Jackson has stolen him too ! " 

" You mean Johnson." 

" Yes, Joseph Johnson ! " 

" Why should he abduct my father, ex- 
cerpt through an insane freak? " 

" Young woman," said The Stout Gen- 
tleman, '^ men who cash other men's 
checks to bearer for fifteen thousand dol- 
lars are not insane. Johnson hypnotized 
your father and compelled him to sign 
that check — Then he carried the old man 
off so he could not inform on him — see? " 

The Stout Gentleman arose, interviewed 
the sideboard, went out into the hallway, 
look his hat from the rack, selected an 
umbrella, and went down the steps out 
into the street. 

It was now broad day light. The gas 
jets all through the house were burning 
full head. I'he air had a hot, close, 
musty smell and each of the persons sit- 
ting around the table were tired, worn and 
wan. They sat in silence a space. 

" What did you say the large man's 
name was? " asked the Superintendent. 

238 



" Who, the man who just left? " 

^' Yes." 

" Why, I was just going to ask you his 
name ! " answered Celeste. 

" How should 1 know him — he had 
charge of things when I came ! " 

" But don't you know him, Mr. Sar- 
ony? " 

" Why no, I thought he was some law- 
yer — a kinsman that you had sent for? " 

The doctor had held a like opinion. 

None of them had ever seen the man 
before. And none of them ever saw him 
after, for he was never more seen of men. 
He was one after the order of Melchize- 
dek. 



239 



II. 

THE Sons of Melchizedek are a: 
most peculiar people. So far as I 
know The Society for Psychic Re- 
search has not yet taken up the subject 
of these men who are without beginning 
of days or end of time. Yet surely it is 
a most vital theme. These beings who 
were never born and cannot die, form a 
tribe that obeys no natural edict — they 
are a law unto themselves. They appear 
and disappear, to reappear again. Like 
vagrant comets, their orbits cannot be 
determined. 

They are visible only under peculiar 
and extraordinary conditions. They 
materialize at will and disappear without 
explanation. After a lecture I have seen 
one of them nish forward and greet the 
speaker with a glow that must have glad- 
dened the orator's heart for months. In. 

240 



fact vour son of M elchizedek is an orator 
himself and therefore knows the orator's 
need for a fervent \vord of appreciation 
after his " effort." 

Once at a Methodist love feast when 
there was a lull in the program and the 
minister asked " and is there not just one 
more who is willing to add a word of tes- 
timony? " I felt a slight cold feeling go 
over me and knew at once that the Un- 
known was rising to his feet behind. I 
heard him clear his throat and begin 
with, " My friends, I have been thinking 
while sitting here," in a low, musical 
voice — a voice all a tremble with fervor. 
He spoke for fully fifteen minutes — spoke 
with ease, and to the point. At first 
there was a craning of necks and whis- 
pered questions as to who he was, but 
this was soon lost in admiration. After 
the service he shook hands with many, 
then disappeared, none knew where. 

This mysterious being often helps to 
carry in the piano, and in crowded street 
cars he has been known to supply the 

241 



necessary nickel when the ladies could 
not find their pockets. When old gen- 
tlemen fall in a fit on the street he is on 
hand. Should a woman faint in church 
he gently carries her out. He opens the 
windows in cars ; looks after the ven- 
tilators at all times, and at barbecues and 
outdoor public meetings he calls up the 
stranger to the feast, introducing shy 
countrymen to others still more shy, thus 
thawing the social ice and making all se- 
cure. 

When church debts are to be raised he 
sometnnes arises in his seat and sub- 
scribes a large amount. At mass meet- 
ings where volunteers are called for to 
pass the hat, he always responds. He 
greets you cordially on the railroad train, 
shaking hands as he passes ; asks after 
the wife and babies and shames you into 
smirking idiocy because you cannot call 
him by name, and as he departs he waves 
his hand and charges you thus : " Take 
care yourself, old man 1 " 

He is always large, usually stout, and 

242 



the true type has a dun colored chin 
whisker. At least he should have. 

He carries a glow of good nature that 
warms like wine ; he is never cast down 
nor is his heart dismayed. At country 
funerals he often appears, consoles the 
friends, takes care of the flowers and ar- 
ranges the chairs in solemn circle against 
the wall. At the churchyard he walks 
with uncovered head by the side of the 
clergyman, fetches the reins from the 
nearest team to lower the coffin, and 
handles the shovel with an unction that 
savors of joy. 

He shows a rare skill in bearing other 
people's sorrows and under no condition 
does he fail to explain that every cloud 
has a silver lining. 

He is a man of resource and conjures 
forth jokes and much good humor when 
hearts are breaking. His clothing is 
plain, sometimes seedy, but he is healthy, 
and where food and drink is spread, this 
modern son of Melchizedek is often 
found. In fact for a being who has the 

243 



power of etherealization his hunger is 
most astonishing, and his thirst unique. 

Hope is his distinguishing feature, 
and he glibly assures you that he lives 
only to learn, and learns but to do good 



244 



T 



III. 

"^HE day after the disappearance of 
Professor Wilson one of the Bos- 
ton morning papers contained the 
following item : 

The explosion of a lamp at the resi- 
dence of Professor Chilo Wilson, on Ap- 
pian Way, Cambridge, last evening, might 
have started a serious conflagration were 
it not for the fact that the fire brigade 
was quickly on hand and extinguished 
the flames before the devouring element 
had gained headway. Loss small. The 
quality of kerosene now sold from most 
stores is much below the required legal 
test. The Inspectorship should certainly 
be in better hands. 

The afternoon papers gave a full ac- 
count of the flight just as it occurred, 
save for a few gratuitous details. The 
statement was made that " both men 
were doubtless laboring under temporary 
aberration of mind, superinduced par- 

245 



tially, if not wholly, from severe mental 
strain." 

The differences in the accounts were 
trifling. One paper gave a map of the 
scene and pronounced a long eulogy on 
Professor Wilson, with a sketch of his 
career. Several of the classmates of Mr. 
Johnson were interviewed and all spoke 
of him in terms of praise. His eccen- 
tricities were lightly touched upon. 

During the day the police got trace of 
the horse and buggy. It had been hired 
at a livery stable and the occupants had 
driven to Kappa, and there the rig had 
been left at a hotel barn. The two men 
had purchased tickets for Portland, but 
as the passenger trains passed each other 
at Kappa the railroad agent could not 
tell whether the fugitives took the train 
for Portland or back to Boston. By 
working the wires the police found that 
the Portland tickets had not been turned 
in to the General Passenger Agent by the 
conductor, and probably, therefore, had 
not been taken up. 

246 



An inventory of the contents of John- 
son's room was taken by the detectives 
but nothing of a suspicious nature was 
found except a peculiar memorandum in 
Greek, which was duly marked Exhibit 
A, and reserved for expert advice. The 
room was then locked and sealed, in 
spite of a protest from the landlady, who 
explained that Johnson was already a 
month behind in rent and that she could 
not afford to be deprived of the possi- 
bility of getting a new tenant. 

The fact of the month's arrear in rent 
was noted in his memorandum book by 
the detective as proof of Johnson's san- 
ity — implying plan, motive, intent. 

At five o'clock in the afternoon the 
Herald got out a special containing a 
fresh version of the story in three col- 
umns. The statement was made that 
Johnson had through hypnotic control 
induced Professor Chilo Wilson to sign a 
check for $16,115.25, and that Johnson 
had taken this check in person to New 
York and secured the money in bills, 

247 



refusing to accept change on other 
banks and maintaining a suspicious and 
dogged silence as to why the money 
should be paid to him in this peculiar 
manner. He then returned home, went 
to the livery stable of Bradburn & Peek, 
selected the horse he wanted, drove to 
the residence of Professor Wilson and at 
the point of a pistol carried away the 
only man who could have informed the 
authorities of his guilt. 

Whether the abductor's intent was to 
drown his victim in Charles River, to 
carry him off to some dark and lonely 
wood and there murder him, or to hold 
him captive in some secluded spot, could 
only be guessed. The prevailing opinion 
was that the drive to Kappa and the pur- 
chase of tickets for Portland was only a 
blind, and that the Professor having been 
drugged, was brought back to Boston and 
was being held a prisoner in some pri- 
vate house : a proceeding much less dan- 
gerous than to attempt to spirit him away 
to distant parts. 

248 



The fact that the Professor's Ufe was 
insured for five thousand dollars, payable 
to his wife, was mentioned, and then the 
paper proceeded to detail the lady's vir- 
tues and apply the whitewash. 

This view of the subject seemed to be 
the one accepted by the police — that 
Johnson had robbed the man and then 
abducted him. The officials refused to 
be interviewed — but looked knowing, 
declaring that they were not at liberty to 
make disclosures — let the public wait 
and it would hear something astonishing 
in due course of time. 

The Sunday Globe contained pictures 
of Professor Wilson, his wife. Miss Ce- 
leste and Mr. Sarony. As no photograph of 
Johnson could be found, a sarsaparilla cut 
from the " old horse pile " was inserted 
by the enterprising editor. Then fol- 
lowed a symposium by twelve college 
professors giving their views on the case, 
with pictures of the professors. 

The various newspaper clippings bear- 
ing on the abduction, I now have before 

249 



me in a scrap book. Among them are 
many editorials on the subject of mental 
overwork, taking Professor Wilson's case 
as an awful example. There are five ser- 
mons with the Wilson case for a text : 
using the subject for a simile to show 
how in a spiritual way Satan runs away 
with the souls of men. Certain patent 
medicine advertisements contained state- 
ments to the effect that Professor Wilson's 
mental trouble arose from Bright's Dis- 
ease. One Texas paper and several 
other Southern Journals had long leaders 
showing that while outrages occasionally 
occur in the South, that the men who 
suffer are those who deserve it ; while in 
the North, innocent, unoffending citizens 
are set upon. The London Fa// Ma/l 
Gazette had a column headed : 

THE GROWING INSECURITY OF 
LIFE IN THE STATES. 
In two weeks the affair seemed, so far 
as the public was concerned, practically 
forgotten. Mr. Sarony was still being 
secretly shadowed, and a watch was kept 

250 



over the Wilson residence, but on the 
third week even this was discontinued. 

A "Personal" was seen in the Tran- 
script couched in polite phrase, asking 
" Will The Stout Gentleman please call 
on the Superintendent of Police to con- 
fer concerning the Wilson case," but that 
personal seemed like a last feeble convul- 
sive kick, and the affair died on the 
hands of the police and was turned over 
to the Pinkertons for dissection. 

The Detective Agency issued a circu- 
lar offering " A reward of $1,000.00 for 
the arrest of Joshua Johnson, and an 
additional reward of $500.00 for the 
body, dead or alive, of Chilo Wilson, late 
Professor of Biology in Harvard Univer- 
sity." 

These circulars were sent throughout 
the civilized world and brought many 
replies. Dozens of men were arrested, 
and tramps without number, who looked 
as if they might be Professors of Biology, 
were followed. Two frowsy specimens 
gave themselves up at Hope, Arkansas^ 

251 



confessing their guilt, and were duly 
brought on by a rustic constable and a 
Justice of the Peace, who claimed the 
reward. The constable and His Honor 
were loaned money to buy tickets home. 

Still other tramps were arrested and 
held for remittances to bring them on. 

Mysterious personages in seedy black 
called at the now well known house in 
Appian Way and proposed giving clues 
for a consideration. Spirit mediums 
wrote offering to supply information ; one 
man out of the goodness of his heart 
called to state that he had had communica- 
tions with Professor Wilson across " the 
Border," and that the Professor had 
wished him to communicate with Mrs. 
Wilson. 

Once a telegram came reading : "Wil- 
son's body found. Send fifty for em- 
balming and will forward." This put the 
poor widow in such a bad way that the 
Telegraph Office was requested not to 
deliver any more dispatches at the Wilson 
residence. 

252 



But in six months the " information "' 
had fallen off until the psychometers 
held a monopoly, save for an occasional 
caller with a *' clue " that might be had 
cheap for cash. 



^SJ 



IV. 

IN stirring times that try men's souls, 
plain women are apt to be over- 
looked. So up to this time it seems 
that we have given but little attention to 
the best ballasted character that has ap- 
peared on our stage — Celeste Wilson. 

It is unfortunate for the present scribe 
that she was not tall, willowy and lissome, 
with a wealth of auburn hair, eyes of lan- 
gourous blue, from which she shot allur- 
ing glances or shafts of scorn. 

Then she never smoked cigarettes nor 
made sarcastic and scathing remarks on 
manners and events. Neither was she 
petite, sparkling and dashingly witty, 
dressing like a girl of fifteen when she 
was twenty-three. All this, I say, is pe- 
culiarly unfortunate for the story writer, 
and were he to hesitate between truth 
and duty, there might be danger of 

254 



retouching the negative and making the 
lady appear as she was not. 

Celeste Wilson was neither tall nor 
short, neither stout nor slender, neither a 
blonde nor a brunette. Her eyes were 
hazel, and her hair, which was always 
neatly parted and combed back, was 
brown — but brown of a lustrous order, 
and this is the only mark of beauty we 
dare put forward as such. Her nose, 
mouth and chin were of the kind you 
never remember. Her form was shapely 
and vigorous — that's all. 

Perhaps it is true that no man is greater 
than his mother, but it is most surely a 
{act and a fact for which to be grateful, 
that in mental acumen, girls often sur- 
pass their mothers. And not seldom is 
it that the fault of the parent becomes 
a blessing to the offspring. 

The children of drunkards are often 
temperance fanatics ; the lack of books 
in a household may give a child a thirst 
for knowledge ; the shiftlessness of the 
father may make a shrewd financier of 



the son ; and lack of opporlnnity m 
country homes whets desire for better 
things. Extremes cause violent oscilla- 
tions to the other side. 

And so it occurred that the nervous 
impatience and lack of poise in Mrs. Wil- 
son produced an inward revolt in the 
heart of her growing daughter; and 
without ever mentioning it to a soul — 
without even being aware of it herself — 
she began placing a curb on her own 
tongue, and to cultivate an inward self- 
sufficiency. 

Before she was sixteen she had silently 
vowed again and again that no matter 
what the future had in store for her, she 
would not busy herself in petty trifles — 
she would not be whimsical and fault- 
finding — she would not agitate others or 
be agitated herself by trivialities. 

She devoted herself to her father, often 
writing his lectures for him. And so well 
did she know his mind that she could an- 
ticipate his thought on most themes, and 
he would read off these lectures to his 

256 



class, all unmindful that another had pre- 
pared them. 

The young woman had gone through 
the Grammar School, spent two years at 
Wellesley and then had come home to 
assist her father in his researches for his 
forth-coming book. 

She knew French and German and 
spent long hours in diving into musty 
volumes for obscure facts. Her mind 
was calm, self-centred, methodical, inci- 
sive. She knew the German Philosophers 
and got a deal more delight from them 
than she ever did from a drowsy society 
atmosphere of green and yellow, where 
was brewed an attenuated conspiracy of 
crysanthemum and pink tea, by the bon- 
neted or otherwise. 

The mother would not think of allow- 
ing her to share any of the household 
cares. No romance had come into her 
life ; all of her " company " was of a 
very prim, staid and proper order, that 
visited in the family sitting room and left 
when the old gentleman put out the cat 

'' C 7 



and wound the clock. Around such a 
woman is a sacred circle — a psychic dead 
line within which no trifling person can 
enter. Mr. Sarony respected the girl, he 
almost thought he loved her, but he was 
afraid of her, and in her presence he 
never felt quite secure. His facts did 
not pass current. She guaged him 
thoroughly and he knew it, and so with 
others of his sort. 

This colorless life to a strong and 
womanly woman was not complete. Let 
us admit that beneath that plain Quaker- 
hued exterior was a heart throbbing with 
revolt at the colorless calm of such a 
passionless existence. 

What was wanting? A husband you 
say. 

Possibly you are right and possibly not. 
For her to have married a well settled 
college professor or a preacher with a sal- 
ary of fifteen hundred and house rent, 
would have been called by the neighbors 
a great match. It would have been her 
intellectual and her spiritual death. 

25S 



What she needed (of course she did 
not know it) was a cyclone of feeling, a 
tornado of God's wrath — trouble, red 
revolution, a shipwreck that would make 
her swim for life. She needed that fate 
should clutch her with fierce talons and 
bear her away on steady pinions — and 
then drop her, so that she would be com- 
pelled to fly or fall and be ground to 
dust. 

And fate was kind. The insanity of 
her father and his disappearance, with 
that of Mr. Johnson, struck her a blow 
that awoke her dormant faculties. There 
are chemicals that do not crystahze until 
after a sharp jar, so there are souls whose 
excellent quahties remain in solution until 
the extraordinary occurs. 

The spirit of Celeste Wilson rose to 
the level of events. She assumed charge 
of the household for the first time. The 
mother was crushed and had no wish 
save to discuss her troubles with any and 
every one that would listen. Celeste 
protected her from the idle curiosity 

■259 



t^t feegocg. 

seekers who called to condole ; she looked 
after her father's financial affairs, con- 
ferred with the police and made the ar- 
rangements with the detectives for offer- 
ing the reward. 

She was sure that both men were men- 
tally irresponsible. The detectives ex- 
plained that if this statement of the case 
was put out, that officers throughout the 
country would cease to look for the men, 
believing that they had committed sui- 
cide. The robbery and abduction phase 
made the affair more sensational, thus 
increasing the talk and making the chances 
of apprehension of the fugitives more 
probable. Miss Wilson therefore allowed 
the Pinkertons to word their circular in 
their own way, still maintaining that when 
found, the innocence of Mr. Johnson 
could be easily proven. 

Her appreciation of Johnson's worth 
was not small. She had found more sat- 
isfaction in his society than in that of any 
man whom she had ever known. Being 
a woman, she knew his sincere but un- 

260 



spoken regard for her, and she recipro- 
cated his feelings to a degree that only 
the holy confessional of the silent night 
and the sacred silence knew. 

But now he had cruelly, brutally de- 
serted her. Her pride was stung, her 
finer feelings violently wrenched. And 
yet she knew in her inmost heart that the 
man must be insane to commit such an 
act : and in this thought there was a 
moiety of consolation. And more than 
this, the loving heart is always forgiving. 

Like Mephisto, Mr. Sarony had had a 
fall : Mr. Sarony remained in bed for three 
days after the fall — then he appeared at 
the Wilson's to offer his services. Miss 
Celeste met him in the parlor. She was 
calm, quiet, self contained. He had ex- 
pected to find her crushed. He ten- 
dered his sympathies in lavish manner 
and denounced *' the man who was the 
cause of this awful tragedy." 

Miss Wilson sat quiet and looked at 
him without the twitch of a muscle. 

He repeated his abuse of Mr. Johnson, 

261 



Meeting no response, only that calm 
steady look of the brown eyes, he 
squirmed, shifted one leg across the other, 
looked at his watch and said : 

** You do not think that Johnson was 
insane, do you? " 

" I did not tell you what I thought ! " 

" I know — but by your looks — come 
now, tell me — if he was insane why should 
he have cashed that check and taken all 
the money with him? " 

But the young lady was not disposed 
to argue the case. Mr. Sarony tried 
crossing his legs the other way, but still 
he was not comfortable. He looked at his 
watch again, suddenly bethought him of 
an engagement and hastily departed with 
his hat on hind side before. 

Part of the Professor's great book on 
Bacteria was in press. The publishers had 
announced it for a certain time — sub- 
scriptions had been paid. The text was 
exceeding technical, only three persons 
in the world could properly correct it, 
so the publishers said. Two of them 

262 



were dead, or worse — the task fell on 
Celeste Wilson. Several chapters were 
yet to be written and several hundred 
microscopic photographs were to be tak- 
en. Many of the slides were not pre- 
pared — even the specimens not yet se- 
cured ; there were hypotheses to verify, 
experiments to be tried and tried again. 

The young woman locked the door, set 
herself at the task, and worked without 
halt four hours every forenoon. The 
afternoons were given to household mat- 
ters, lighter cares and outdoor exercise. 
In six months the electrotypes for the 
great work were complete and the pub- 
lishers, treating the young woman as her 
father's agent, paid her the first install- 
ment of $1,000.00, as agreed. 

Still no word of the absent ones : only 
foolish letters from foolish people, calls 
from idle people, messages from design- 
ing people and rumors that brought noth- 
ing but disappointment. 

Yet from the heart of Celeste Wilson 
hope had never fled. 

263 



V. 

1\ H UM. thi 

U 



M 



UM, that 'tective man is here 
agin — you'll have to see him, 
1 s'pose." 

It was the servant girl talking through 
the key hole of the library at Miss Wilson. 

In the parlor was Mr. Maclane, man- 
ager of the Boston Branch of the Pinker- 
ton Agency. ^He was a small man, 
smooth faced, slightly bald, quiet, gentle- 
manly, fashionably dressed. 

" Miss Wilson, you know I would not 
trouble you without a reason — it looks at 
last as if we had a clue." 

Miss Wilson smiled — a resigned, weary 
smile — so many things had been found 
that looked like clues. But to be sure, 
they were not from Mr. Maclane ! 

The detective wasted no words. He 
took from his pocketbook a letter and 
handed it to Miss ^Vilson to read. She 

264 



saw from a memorandum on it in red ink 
that it had been received three weeks be- 
fore. 

Here is the letter : 

GRAND CENTRAL HOTEL, 

John Hetitlerson, Troprielor. 

Regulars or transients 

accommodated at lowest rates. 

The best of good things to be had at the bar. 

First-class livery in connection. 

Dead Horse City, Col., Aug. 19. 

Pinkerton Detectors 

I have them Fellars what you are 
after we have them both the 2 of them 
Charley Wilson and Bileology Johnson I 
seed your notus in The grocry here send 
along the dust all as you Promised for i 
have them Fellars Both 

Yours. Truly. 

Joseph. Biffer. 

US marshall 

Miss Wilson read the letter slowly and 
carefully ; she had seen many very simi- 
lar documents during the past few months. 
She handed the letter back and her 
glance said, " Well?" 

265 



" There is nothing especially distinc- 
tive about this as you see. But we re- 
plied to it as we do to all such communi- 
cations, explaining that to prevent a pos- 
sible fruitless journey photographs of 
the prisoners should be taken and sent to 
us ; or some other proof forwarded to 
show that the right parties had been ap- 
prehended. In answer to our letter 
came this." 

Here Mr. Maclane handed over a letter 
marked No. 2. It ran as follows : 

Dead Horse, Wensday Evenin 

Pink 

Dear Sir — You dont seem to want 
them Fellars so bad after all Do you 
Think I can board them For you till they 
dy of old Age they air here and if you 
want them you Must speak right out in 
Meetin. they wont hold still to have pic- 
tures took i send you leaves torn out of 
Johnsons pocketbook that will show yer i 
am onest. 

Yours. Truly. 

J. Bi'ffer. 

Constable & Livery stable. 

266 



Celeste Wilson perused this missive 
without the slightest change of counte- 
nance. As she finished she held out her 
hand for what was to come next. '^I'he 
pencil-scrawled leaves from her father's 
note book shook in her fingers as she 
turned them over. Yes, they were gen- 
uine, no one but her father wrote like 
that, and the matter was of an abstruse 
and technical kind that only she could 
understand. It referred to the book on 
Bacteria on which she had been working 
so many anxious hours. It seemed like 
a message from the dead. 

"Tell me," she said, " where did you 
get these? " 

" I have just told you," answered the 
man — " they came in that letter." 

" And where is the letter from, did you 
say?" 

" Dead Horse — Dead Horse City, 
Colorado. Two thousand miles from here, 
in the heart of the Rocky Mountains ; 
not far from where Colorado, New Mex- 
ico and Utah join." 

267 



Then they were both silent. The de- 
tective got up and walked over to the 
window to give the lady time to recover 
her poise. 

"And is that all, Mr. Maclane? " 

" Ves, that is all. Now as I said be- 
fore this looks like a clue. I do not say 
it is a clue, only it appears like one " 

" The writing is my father's I " 

" Yes, grant that ; but these torn 
leaves from an old memorandum book 
may have been stolen — taken from some 
desk in the college — then forwarded to 
that out-of-the-way spot. You notice 
that man — what is his name? — Ijiffer, 
wants us to for>vard the reward? " 

"And you do not think it worth while 
to go and investigate?" 

" Most certainly not until we know 
more about it. If this man has made 
the arrest he surely will not let the men 
go, so long as there is a hope of securing 
the fifteen hundred dollars. If the place 
were near I might send a man on at 
once, but this town of Dead Horse is not 

268 



even down on the map. I found a man 
at the Post Office who says it is a mining 
town — one of those mushroom ' cities ' 
and that it is on a spur of the Rio Grande 
Raih'oad. The whole place might dis- 
appear before we could get there, and 
then you notice that Mr. Biffer calls 
himself a ^ U. S. Marshal ' in one place 
and ' a constable and Livery stable ' in 
another ! " 

" He might be a U. S. Marshal, and a 
constable too and then keep a livery sta- 
ble besides," answered Celeste. She was 
in no mood for jest. 

But Mr. Maclane was sure that noth- 
ing was to be gained by haste. He pro- 
posed that another letter be sent to the 
" Constable and Livery stable " urging 
for photographs of the men. 

** But there may be no apparatus for 
taking photographs in such a primitive 
place," interposed the lady. 

" But if such were the case Biffer would 
have said so ; instead he puts in the fool- 
ish excuse that they wouldn't hold still." 

269 



Miss Wilson was strongly inclined to 
make the trip herself at once. She 
feared that her father and Mr. Johnson 
might not be receiving good treatment. 
Mr. Maclane's advice finally prevailed 
and a letter was composed by Miss Wil- 
son to be sent to Mr. Biffer, when it oc- 
curred to her there might be a telegraph 
line to Dead Horse City. Mr. Maclane 
offered to ascertain at once. Miss Wilson 
proposed to go with him to the telegraph 
ofifice. So they went. 

The local manager of the Western 
Union had never heard of Dead Horse 
City, but suggested that the message be 
sent to Pueblo with orders to forward by 
mail if Dead Horse was not a telegraph 
station. So the following message was 
sent : 

Boston, Sept. 15. 
Joseph Biffer, 

Dead Horse City, Col. 

We will pay extra board of men. 
Give them good care. Send pictures and 
other proof of identity. Your reward 
sure if you have our men. Pinkerton. 

270 



t^c feegac)?. 

Dead Horse City proved to be a tele- 
graph point with an arbitrary rate known 
as a " hairlifter." All of which Mr. Mac- 
lane ascertained the next morning when 
a collect reply to his message came with 
bill for the one he had sent the day be- 
fore. 

This was the reply : 

Dead Horse City, Sep. i6. 

Pinkerton, Boston, Mass. 

They will not put on pleasant ex- 
pression proofs of identity sent in box. 
Collect $2.95. J. BifTer. 

Mr. Maclane read the message and 
scowled. " This is certainly trifling," he 
said under his breath, " the box will con- 
tain bricks. Why in the name of all that's 
good can't the practical jokers play their 
pranks on other people besides the Pink- 
ertons ! " 

He mailed the message to Miss Wil- 
son, writing across the face of it, " Prob- 
ably only another hoax," and signed his 
initials. 

271 



In five days came a box with collect 
charges 1^4.05 . Mr. Maclane paid the 
amount and scowled the grimmest kind 
of a professional scowl. It was a queer 
package — all iron bound and hooped : 
evidently once a tobacco caddy, then 
used as a feed box in the United States 
Marshal's livery stable, thought the detec- 
tive. It weighed ten pounds. 

Mr. Maclane was certain it was a hoax 
and he decided he would just take the 
box over to the residence of the late 
Professor Wilson and open it in the pres- 
ence of Miss Celeste. It would show 
her how unhappy was the lot of a Pink- 
erton. 

And so he tied the cumbrous and un- 
sightly package m brown paper and duly 
arrived in Appian Way. He explained 
his errand to Miss Wilson and told the 
young lady that although he feared it was 
a hoax, he preferred to open the box in 
her presence. 

They adjourned to the woodshed, a 
hatchet was procured, and after much 

272 



$5e S^CQaci^. 

prying and pounding the cover was re- 
moved. A block of wood was taken out 
and the rest of the space was stuffed 
with good honest livery stable hay. Mr. 
Maclane looked at the lady as much as 
to say, I told you so. She looked at him 
and shook her head in disappointment. 

" What's all this pounding in my back 
kitchen I'd like to know ! " It was Mrs. 
Wilson's voice ; the gray-haired old lady 
had made her way down from up-stairs 
and was now standing beside her daugh- 
ter. " What a litter this man has made 
on the clean floor — why did you allow it, 
Celeste — my goodness ! ! " 

Her curiosity was ever supreme — she 
reached over and drew out a handful of 
the alfalfa — " It's queer hay, isn't it 
now?" she said. Two handfuls, three — 
something fell out on the floor : a pair of 
gold-bowed glasses. She picked them 
up, looked at them casually in a matter 
of course way and said " Why, they are 
your father's, child — look, there are the 
initials C. \\\ that you had engraved 

273 



when you bought them a year ago last 
Christmas ! " 

" Yes, they are father's glasses," quietly 
said Celeste, " they have found him." 



274 



VI. 

THE Alumni Association of Harvard 
University had recently added an 
extra thousand dollars to the re- 
ward for return of the wanderers. This 
had increased the Pinkerton's interest in 
the case. Anyway, when Mr. Maclane 
had decided on an issue he acted quickly. 
On the way from the Wilson residence 
he stopped in at Matthews Hall. Mr. 
Sarony was at home and was a little agi- 
tated at sight of the official, although he 
had had several interviews with Mr. Mac- 
lane at the Pinkerton offices. A number 
of students were lounging in Sarony's 
apartments. Mr. Maclane declined to 
enter but calling Mr. Sarony into the hall- 
way told him that he thought he had at 
last got track of Professor Wilson and 
Mr. Johnson. He proposed to send 
Martin Dunston, his best man, after 

275 



them, but wanted some one to go with 
Mr. Dunston who could identify the 
prisoners beyond cavil. Mr. Sarony 
knew them both so well — would he go? 

Mr. Sarony replied with enthusiasm that 
he would be delighted to go — had been 
intending to go to Colorado anyway for 
some time — was all up on all of his 
studies, except Ix)gic, and could cram on 
that while gone if it would not interfere 
with the detective duties. Should he 
carry a revolver? 

Mr. Maclane thought it might be as 
well to take a revolver ; and he saw no 
reason why Mr. Sarony should not cram 
on Logic while on the trip if he desired. 

" How soon will your man want to 
start?" 

"To-night at nine-fifteen. Boston & 
Albany — Kneeland Street ! " 

" Jee-whilaker, but you are speedy — no 
difference though — I'll be there " 

Mr. Maclane hastened away and Sarony 
rejoined his chums. 

" S'pose you fellows know that man, 

276 



don't you? " said Mr. Sarony as he lighted 
a cigarette with much deliberation and 
proceeded to blow the smoke through 
his nose. 

" Yes, I know him," said a youth, 
stretched at full length in the window 
seat, *' he's a tutor from Brown's who is 
going to help you in your Greek." 

" Smarty ! " 

" Fact, two dollars an hour." 

*' Gentlemen, that's Pinkey, old Pinkey 
the detective — and the smartest one on 
earth ! " 

The three loungers came to attention 
at once. 

" And what does he want here? " 

" Oh, nothing, only I have been work- 
ing up a little case for him — me and him 
are going after the rascals to-night — I lo- 
cated 'em in California — two of 'em, 
murderers — Nine-fifteen, Boston tSc Al- 
bany, Kneeland Street. Who says pok- 
er? " 

No one said poker, but all wanted to 
hear details. Not a word could they 

277 



get — " It's professional business," ex- 
plained Mr. Sarony — " professional busi- 
ness, and we have taken the Hypocratic 
oath, just the same as you medical fel- 
lows — understand? " He nodded toward 
a young medicus, who signified that he 
understood. 

Mr. Sarony's sudden air of mystery was 
not favorable for social converse : so the 
three friends slouched out one after an- 
other, each on a pretext of his own, and 
the man on whom greatness had so sud- 
denly been thrust, was left to kill time 
until nine-fifteen. 

Mr. Maclane procured his requisition 
papers without delay and telegraphed to 
Dead Horse City that officers were en- 
route. He then closeted himself with 
Mr. Dunston for an hour, so that gentle- 
man would have a full understanding of 
the case. 

A word about Martin Dunston may not 
be out of place. His age was about 
forty, height five feet, nine ; weight, even 
two hundred. He was a man after Allan 

278 



Pinkerton's own heart. A close cropped 
beard covered his face ; his eyes were 
grey and peered out from under bushy 
eyebrows in a dull and stolid way. The 
face showed no sign of animation or 
alertness ; his clothes were usually a 
mixed tweed, ready made. The suit 
probably cost him twelve dollars ; he 
wore a paper collar over a flannel shirt, 
and a derby, somewhat battered. 

The streets are full of such men : he 
might be a mechanic looking for work ; a 
well-to-do carpenter enjoying a rest ; a 
blacksmith with a religious turn, taking a 
little time to think ; an engineer with a 
lay-off ; possibly he was more than this — 
he might even be boss of a construction 
gang. 

But he was too commonplace for con- 
jecture ; and so dull that he excited no 
suspicions, even in the minds of crimi- 
nals — they might chaff him and ask after 
the crop§, and they occasionally did. No 
one of course would really affront him — 
men who weigh two hundred, who have 

279 



square jaws, wear thick soled boots, and 
seldom talk, are safe from insult at least. 

Yet here was the shrewdest working 
detective New England has ever known. 
Governor Long once said that if Martin 
Dunston chose he would make the 
smoothest confidence man in America. 

Dunston had been a patrolman and 
won his sergeant's stripes in a peculiar 
way. Seeing the glimmer of a match in 
a Tremont street store at three o'clock 
one morning, he slipped off his boots and 
going around to the back door of the 
store he found it unlocked. He man- 
aged to bar it so to stop any exit by that 
route, then went down through a coal 
hole that was open, made his way up 
through the store and captured two burg- 
lars at the point of his revolver. He 
compelled these men to manacle each 
other, then waited for daylight. 

At nine o'clock Mr. Maclane and Mr. 
Dunston appeared at the Kneeland Street 
station. Dunston had fifteen hundred 
dollars in gold in a belt about his waist, 

280 



a revolver in the inside pocket of his sack 
coat (he was too wise ever to reach 
toward his hip), certain warrants and re- 
quisition papers pinned into the breast 
pockets of his vest, loose money in sev- 
eral places for expenses, and a shining 
patent leather vahse containing several 
sets of hand-cuffs. 

Mr. Sarony arrived an hour before. 
As he was going " Out West " he had 
donned a blue flannel shirt, discarded 
suspenders for a leather tennis belt, and 
had purchased an imitation sombrero 
which he wore jauntily turned up on one 
side. 

Mr. Maclane noticed the outfit and 
could not repress a smile. Dunston 
shook hands awkwardly when introduced 
and noticed nothing. But Mr. Sarony 
did. He looked his partner over care- 
fully from shining valise to paper collar : 
he was sorely disappointed. " A regular 
greenhorn," he said to himself, and if it 
had not been Mr. Maclane that intro- 
duced the man, he could never have 

281 



believed that this was the great Diinston 
who unraveled the Middletown mystery. 
The detective's make-up was the art that 
conceals the art, but Mr. Sarony did not 
perceive the fact. How could he? 

Then another disappointment was in 
store for the amateur detective — Mr. 
Dunston did not care to take a sleeping 
car. He preferred to ride with " the 
folks." 

Mr. Maclane shook hands with the 
pair and said, " Good luck to you, boys," 
as he turned and went away. 

The dashing Mr. Sarony followed " the 
greenhorn " into the smoker where they 
took seats. Mr. Sarony had anticipated 
a picnic ; but this did not look like one. 
Mr. Dunston settled himself in a seat and 
went to sleep without relating a single 
Old Sleuth yarn. 

At noon the next day they were at 
Niagara Falls, the next morning at Chi- 
cago, the next forenoon at ten o'clock 
they were in Denver. They took a car- 
riage for the State House and Mr. 

282 



^^e Eegttci^. 



Dunston's papers were properly endorsed 
without question. At eight o'clock that 
night Pueblo was reached ; it was too 
late to get a train out on the Rio Grande, 
but there was one that started at five in 
the morning. 

Mr. Sarony's sombrero was no longer 
turned up on one side ; it hung down all 
around in a very woe-begone condition ; 
his eyes were bloodshot and face black 
with soot and travel stain ; his head 
throbbed and everything was in a whirl. 
Dunston was black with dust but had an 
enormous appetite. ' After supper he 
smoked his pipe with relish. Then they 
went to bed and had not slept an hour 
before they were dragged out for the five 
o'clock train. At least this is what Mr. 
Sarony averred. After a long, hot, tedi- 
ous day's journey they reached Dead 
Horse City. The cool mountain night 
was settling down and it caused Sarony 
to shake as though with a chill. 

They enquired the way to the Grand 
Central Hotel. It did not at all resemble 



2^ 






the cut on the envelopes that Mr. BifFer 
had used, but there was only one hotel in 
the place. They entered and were well 
stared at by the loafers in the barroom. 

The landlord bustled out from behind 
the bar, asked if they were from Boston, 
shook hands with them, said he was ex- 
pecting them and would send at once for 
the U. S. Marshal — Kiuse Joe, or more 
properly Mr. Joseph Biffer. 

So Mr. Biffer was sent for, also the 
sheriff. Then the landlord and the two 
gentlemen of Verona adjourned to a 
back room. 

The sheriff' was a boy of about nine- 
teen, who had been appointed to office 
as a reward, the landlord privately ex- 
plained to Mr. Sarony, for having filled 
Cyclone Sam with buckshot. The Cy- 
clone had twice taken the town ; on his 
third appearance he met his Waterloo. 

Mr. Biffer, the U. S. Marshal, was 
slouching, bewhiskered, but tried hard to 
be polite. He insisted on treating the 
strangers, so bottles and glasses were 

284 



brought in and business began at 
once. 

'' I suppose you have the prisoners all 
right for us? " said Mr. Dunston. 

" Oh yes, they're all right, the sheriff 
here knows that ! " 

Mr. Dunston stated that he was anx- 
ious to get off with his men on the morn- 
ing train; could it be arranged? 

Mr. Biffer said it could be arranged. 
The sheriff was willing, the landlord had 
no objection, but coughed and said he 
was afraid it would hurry matters. Be- 
sides there were little preliminaries in 
such matters that must be attended to. 

" Oh, you mean the reward ! I have 
the fifteen hundred dollars in gold and 
Mr. Sarony here knows both parties well. 
As soon as you show us the men, and Mr. 
Sarony identifies them, why, I pay you 
the fifteen hundred dollars. Here are 
the requisition papers ! " 

Mr. Biflfer took the papers, held them 
upside down and gazed at them with 
lack lustre eye. Then he handed the 

285 



documents to the sheriff who examined 
the back of one and passed it to the 
landlord, who declined to throw a shadow 
of suspicion on the eminent Pinkertons 
by even looking at it. 

" If youse say it is straight — why that's 
naff said — I never questions the word of 
a true gent — never, by gawd ! " 

Mr. Sarony said something about the 
satisfaction of doing business with busi- 
ness men and proceeded to sample the 
whiskey for the third time. 

Mr. Dunston thanked the gentlemen 
for their courtesy and arose, suggesting 
that they adjourn to the jail at once and 
take a look at the prisoners, then if he 
and his partner could be excused they 
would go to bed. They had been travel- 
ling constantly for four days and were 
very tired. 

'* Cert'nly ! " said the U. S. Marshal. 

"In course ! " said the sheriff. 

The landlord coughed. 

" Well? " said Mr. Dunston when they 
all sat still leaving him standing — "Well? " 

286 



^§e SlC^c^c^* 



" You see," said the landlord, " we 
haven't our jail done yit ! " 

"What's that! " 

" We have no jail — only the ground 
where it's goin' to be." 

" And where are the prisoners? " 

" Now sit down — I told you there's no 
need of bein' in a rush — you see the 
pris'ners is not yet took. We have got 
'em, but they are a ways back in the 
country — at a summer resort, a san-tear- 
um — there for their health you know. 
Now if the Marshal shows 'em to you I 
b'lieve you said you'd fork over the 
dust?" 

" Yes, show them to me and the re- 
ward will be paid." 

" Wall, the Marshal is a leetle queer — 
he hasn't been round as much as we'uns 
has — he's suspicious. Now if you give 
that money to me to give to the Marshal 
just as soon as he shows you the pris'ners, 
then he'll show 'em to youse. I'll go 
'long, and if he don't show you the pris'ners 
I'll give you the money back — see? " 

287 



Mr. Dunston did not see. In fact he 
felt that there was an attempt being made 
lo swindle him. He refused to discuss 
the matter further, but told the landlord 
that if he would show himself and Mr. 
Sarony a room they would go to bed. 

The landlord was very gracious and 
insisted on all hands taking a nightcap at 
his expense. 

Then the strangers were lighted to a 
room about as big as a dry goods box. 
Sarony was half drunk and so tired and 
sick that he fell on the bed without re- 
moving his boots and was soon in a pro- 
found stupor. 

Mr. Dunston was in no such haste. He 
carefully examined his revolver, pushed 
the bed up against the door and sat down 
to have a quiet smoke. Then he placed 
a pillow on the floor, and rolling up in a 
blanket, lay down and went to sleep. 
The sun was shining brightly when he 
awoke. 

He shook Mr. Sarony into a sitting 
posture and they went down stairs and 

288 



washed at a horse trough in front of the 
hotel, had " something " with the smiUng 
landlord, then sat down to a good break- 
fast of ham, fried potatoes, corn bread 
and coffee. 

Then Mr. Dunston and Mr. Sarony 
took a walk around town. They called 
in at the office of The ConsoHdated 
Mining Company, which seemed to be 
the only really business-like place in the 
town. The Secretary was an Eastern 
man of some education. 

In reply to Mr. Dunston's inquiries he 
explained that he did not know the sher- 
iff ; and did not consider Mr. BifTer, the 
constable or marshal or whatever he 
called himself, reliable. Mr. Henderson, 
the landlord, was a man of some prop- 
erty, and was thought to be reasonably 
but not absurdly honest. He was often 
entrusted with large amounts as a stake- 
holder for bets, etc. In fact he was the 
" official stakeholder " of Dead Horse 
City. 

The two gentlemen from Boston went 

289 



back to the hotel and Mr. Dunston re- 
quested the landlord to send for the 
sheriff and the U. S. Marshal. Soon they 
appeared and all adjourned, just as the 
night before, to the back room. Bottles 
and glasses were brought in as a matter 
of course. The barroom loafers thought 
that merely a quiet game of draw was in 
progress, and they were right. 

"Mr. Biffer," began Mr. Dunston at 
once, " I have the money here for your 
reward as soon as you produce the men — 
are you going to produce them? " 

" Naw, I'm afeared of you — give the 
money to the ramrod — all as he said — 
when I shows you the men — the ramrod 
gives me the money — if I don't show you 
the men, he gives the money back to you 
and no harm done ! " 

" If you do not show me the men 
within twenty-four hours, then he is to 
return my money." 

" If I don't show you the men in a 
week — they may be off fishin' or suth- 
in' ! " 

290 



$^e Si^t^aci^. 



" Very well — here is the money." 

Mr. Dunston brought forth his money 
belt and counted out fifteen piles of shin- 
ing gold — one hundred dollars in each 
pile. 

The landlord gave a receipt for it. 

"When shall we start? " 

" To-morrow mornin'." 

" Not before to-morrow? " 

"Naw!" 

" Very well, you shall have your way 
this time." 

At eight o'clock the next morning five 
saddle horses and a pack mule were in 
front of the Grand Central Hotel. 

Mr. Henderson, Mr. Biffer, Mr. Dun- 
ston, Mr. Sarony and the sheriff mounted. 

Mr. Sarony's horse refused to start. 
Someone on the veranda called, " It's the 
Lamb ; he's gentle ; give him the spurs." 

The advice was followed — a bystander 
fired his revolver in the air — and the 
animal made a plunge forward, kicked, 
then bucked and sent the luckless rider 
sprawling in the dust. The horse, looking 

291 



very innocent, walked slowly around to 
the corral back of the hotel. 

There was much loud laughter from 
the crowd that had assembled to see the 
travelers off ; evidently they had antici- 
pated the performance. 

Mr. Sarony was picked up, somewhat 
bruised and very much frightened. While 
a new horse was being procured it cost 
him just three dollars for drinks, which 
he paid rather than run the risk of giving 
offense. Why he should supply fun for a 
crowd by being nearly killed and then 
buy whiskey for these same men, was a 
proceeding not explained in Mr. Sarony's 
book on Logic. 

A docile horse was procured and the 
five men rode away. 

They were gone just ten days. 

Then they all came back, just as they 
had started ; only the pack mule's burden 
was much lightened. 

All were in good spirits save Mr. 
Dunston and Mr. Sarony : they seemed 
worn and distressed. They took the 

292 



train at once for the East. In four days 
they reached Boston. 

*' Did you bring your men?" asked 
Mr. Maclane as they entered the Pinker- 
ton office. 

" No, sir." 

" Ah, I thought it was a fake — but we 
are used to such things." 

" I brought neither the men nor the 
money, sir ! " 

" What ! you have not lost that fifteen 
hundred dollars? " 

" I did not bring the men, and I was 
swindled out of the money," answered 
Mr. Dunston. 



293 



BOOK IV. 



I. 

1"^HE first rays of the rising sun shone 
straight up the canyon and filled 
the cave where the sleepers lay 
with strange luminous gleams. Wrapped 
in the warm robes the three men sat up 
and looked around at the soft, golden re- 
flection which came from the yellow walls. 

" Gents, this is a queer deal, but a 
lucky one. Thar is jest two weeks in 
every year when the sun can shine into 
this here tenement of clay — only two 
weeks, gents, and then only for a minute 
at a time ! " Even as he spoke, the 
bright glow seemed to be dying away. 
" Come boys, we'll watch old Sol push on 
past the canyon." 

And as on the ocean one sees the sun 
gradually sink beneath the waste of 
waters, so the three men with heads thrust 
out of the opening, watched the sun 

297 06 



disappear past the point of the palisade, 
on his southward march . 

These three faces peering out of a hole 
in the si(ie of a soHd stone wall, would 
have made a choice picture for an artist 
in search of the picturesque. One head 
was sandy, inclining to plain red, the 
next was white, then came a towsled 
shock of brown. 

Mr. Johnson suggested that they get 
out at once and go to the top of the hill 
to view the scene ; the Professor wished 
to remain and study the hieroglyphics in 
the cave ; but Pete declared there was no 
time for either. 

" Thar's work to do gents — good, old 
fashioned work — we've got to git this 
canyon blocked so as to hold out agin 
the world, the flesh, and the devil." 

" Do you think They can find us 
here?" 

" Find us ! in course They can — a blind 
man could foller our trail — we must git 
ready to hold down this claim agin all 
hell ! " 

298 



But seeins: that he had made a little 
deeper impression than he intended, like 
a man who has frightened his wife when 
he only meant to rally her, Pete sought to 
lessen the effect of his tragic remarks by 
adding : 

" You see, boys, thar's insecks round 
here — heaps o' insecks, I'm nervous — we 
must perteck ourselves." 

" Insects — why, what kinds? " 

" Bars and wolves and mountain lions 
and sich ; we'll jest run a stone wall 'cross 
here — make a gate of cottonwood logs 
and then we're ready to receive visitors." 

By this time they were clothed, al- 
though not exactly in their right minds. 
A fire was started and breakfast was soon 
steaming on a great flat rock that served 
for a table. A hurried wash of hands 
and faces in the cold waters of the spring 
and a flinging of hands and shaking of 
heads in lieu of towel, and the trio began 
to eat. 

" Some folks alius prays, that is, they 
says a now-I-lay-me, or suthin', before 

299 



eatin'," began Pete ; " as for me, I'm 
thankful all the time, and if God knows 
ev'rything, and I s'pose he does, in course 
he knows it. What's the use of tellin' a_ 
man like God things he knows already 
before? It's foolishness ! that's what 'tis ! 
Then why give thanks when you eat and 
not when you see the long streaked yaller 
rays of the sun come a smilin' in on you 
in the mornin'? Now wasn't that a 
poorty sight this mornin' — finer than any 
picture was ever made. The yaller and 
the gold, and yet what did we do? Jest 
stared with mouths open and eyes bulgin' 
— and never give thanks at all. People 
don't know when they are really thankful 
I reckon — they are too happy to think 
about God's gittin' mad cause they don't 
say ' much obleeged.' Now thar was a fel- 
ler from the States once who I took across 
the plains and he says to me, says he, 'Pete, 
I only give thanks before lamb ' " 

"What's that?" 

" He says, says he, * I only give thanks 
for a lamb.' '* 

30P 



"P'or that wild horse?" 

" No, it's a horse on you." 

^•' Oh, you mean, he said ' I only give 
thanks before Shakespeare,' " explained 
Mr. Johnson. 

"Do I? Wall perhaps I do if you 
say so — 'skuse me." 

"Yes, Charles Lamb said it." 

" Wall, Johnsing, you're so smart s'pose 
you just scoot up to the top of the hill 
and take a look 'round, git a view of the 
animiles and be back in fifteen minutes. 
It'ull be good for your wholesome." 

The student departed, eating corn 
bread as he went. 

Reaching the top of the hill he found 
a plateau as level as a floor save for 
several peculiar small mounds. The soil 
was thin and sandy, so there was no 
vegetation except a few stunted bushes. 
In every direction lay the level plain of 
the valley, while away to the east was the 
mountain range that they had crossed : 
each beetling crag and valley and twisted 
tree and " slashing " marking the wild 

301 



t^ &egacg. 

rush of an avalnnche, stood out as tlear 
as if etched on brass. Johnson traced 
the path down which they had come and 
could ahnost make out the hoof prints of 
their horses on the white dust of the 
plain. 

He walked slowly around the entire 
hilltop and saw the white-capped peaks 
of several mountains that lifted them- 
selves to the sky off to the west. Roll- 
ing up the sides were vast cumuli of 
white mist that moved like giant vagrant 
spirits over the gray waste of rock and 
crag. At the foothills of the mountain 
less than a mile away was a small grove of 
Cottonwood and these with a few trees at 
the mouth of the canyon seemed the only 
variation to the never ending sage, cacti 
and buffalo grass. 

Johnson was a poet spoiled by a scien- 
tific bent. The splendid blue sky, the 
rising sun, the great level plain of the 
valley stretching off to the north and 
south, miles on miles, the mountains on 
either hand, the great silence over all, 

302 



2:^e feegaci?. 



and he the only man — the " first man " — 
standing on this pin head of earth viewing 
the scene, filled his soul with awe. 

Gradually the spirit of the scientist 
came forth and he began to speculate on 
the geologic joke of this hill, forgotten 
by nature, and left standing in what had 
once been the bed of a mighty river. 

Like all scientists, when an idea took 
possession of him he wanted to discuss it 
with another. Straightway he started 
down the narrow cut to get the old 
professor and bring him up to view this 
most wonderful of wonderful phenomena. 

"And how air the animiles?" spoke 
Pete. 

*' The animals? why bless me, I forgot 
all about them." 

" Now did you though — what in tarna- 
shun did I send you up thar fer?" 

Johnson tried to apologize, and then 
as men often run away to escape the 
rasping tongue of a woman so did Johnson 
hasten down out of the canyon to find 
the horses. The animals were all lying 

303 



t^e feegocg. 

down in the lee of the hill where they got 
the warm reflection of the sun's rays. 
But forgetting to go back and report, the 
man walked around the hill and looked 
up at the overhanging ledge which ran 
around the whole formation. It was 
surely a natural fortress ; and by guarding 
the canyon the place for a second Ther- 
mopylae. 

" Wall, how is it?" asked the guide 
when Johnson finally returned. 

" Oh, the horses are all right — and the 
view " 

" Never mind that. Did you see any 
game? " 

" Yes, dozens of antelopes only a mile 
away, and several buffaloes over to the east 
near where we came down the moun- 
tain." 

" Bufflers ! there ain't no bufflers with- 
in five hundred mile ! " 

Pete hastened to the top of the cliff. 
In ten minutes he returned. 

" Gents, we're goin' to have callers — 
your bufflers are men on horseback — 

^ 304 



five of 'em — they'll be here in two 
hours ! " 

'' Who are they do you think ? " 

" Oh, Jagoold and the rest of your 
friends, I reckon." 

The horses and burros were all brought 
up the canyon, and then there was some 
sharp, quick work in making a barricade 
of stones across the mouth of the pass. 

The old man trembled with fear, but 
did his best in his weak way to pile up 
the bowlders. 

From time to time Pete or Johnson 
would go to the top of the hill to recon- 
noitre. The five horsemen were coming 
across the valley straight to the Last 
Stand. 

They had approached within two miles 
when the old professor climbed into the 
cave, and by his request the entrance was 
covered with loose stones. Then the 
other two men, each with a Winchester 
and a belt full of cartridges, went to the 
top of the hill and lay concealed in the 
sage brush near the edge of the cliff. 

305 



The horsemen following the hoofprints 
in the sand, were headed straight for 
the entrance to the pass — they had ap- 
proached to within a hundred yards. 
Pete's Winchester rang out and a bullet 
went singing a merry anthem over the 
heads of the advancing men. Their 
horses stopped instantly. 

One man called out : " Hello, we are 
friends — hello, hello ! " 

But there was no reply — no one in 
sight. Two of the visitors carried rifles 
and the others had pistols at their belts, 
but all were wise enough to make no 
show of fight. 

After waiting five minutes and receiv- 
ing no answer to their " hello's," one of 
the men dismounted and standing clear 
of his horse, laid down his rifle, removed 
his pistols and holding his hands above 
his head advanced toward that part of 
the cliff from whence he had seen the 
puff of smoke. 

" See, gentlemen, I'm unarmed, I'm 
the sheriff and there's no use of your 

306 



making a row. I have warrants for you 
all — you might as well give up peace- 
able ! " 

The man was an intelligent young 
fellow and seemingly honest. 

Pete edged out of his hiding place 
and sat on the ground, rifle in hand. 

" What we done that you want to 'rest 
usfer?" 

" Well, you robbed Joseph Biifer, and 
he has sworn out warrants against you." 

" Who is your Biffer man? " 

" Kiuse Joe, his other name is — you 
better give in — we want no blood shed !" 

"I'm sorry, cause if you did we can 
'commodate you. How much did we rob 
the gentleman of ? " 

" You stole his horse, and took a big 
wad of greenbacks from him. Then you 
tied him on a horse ; he was nearly dead 
when the horse brought him home. The 
brute lay down in a buffalo wallow and 
rolled with him in the mud. Are you 
going to come down and give up? " 

"Yes, we're going to give up in a 

307 



minute — give up about a hundred rounds 
of lead. Say, s'pose we give up the long 
greenish green that we stole from Joe, 
will that satisfy you? " 

" Yes, give up the money and I will let 
you go." 

*'You won't 'rest us?" 

"No!" 

" Shall we let the money down over 
the side of the rock? " 

"Yes." 

" Wall, first hadn't you better read the 
warrants? " 

The man produced three protentous 
pieces of paper and proceeded to read 
them. One warrant was for John Doe, 
the other was for Richard Roe and the 
third for Peter Smith, "alias Rattlesnake 
Pete." 

The Sheriff read each warrant in a loud 
oyez, oyez voice, holding the document 
up in two hands. He had nearly com- 
pleted reading the third when a rifle 
spoke and the paper leaped out of the 
grasp of the astonished man. Pete had 

308 



slipped back behind the sage and sent a 
bullet within three inches of the sheriff's 
nose. This was followed up with a per- 
fect fusilade of shots that plowed the 
sand and stones all about the poor man's 
feet. It sounded as if a Gatling gun was 
Joeing worked by a lunatic. The fellow 
started to run and as he ran the bullets 
went singing over his head. 

"Don't kill him— don't kill him," 
begged Johnson in a hoarse whisper. 

" I would not harm a har of his baby 
head," said Pete as he filled the maga- 
zine of his rifle with cartridges. 

The sheriff had reached his horse, and 
the five horsemen started away on a gallop 
that in an instant broke into an absolute 
run and a race for life. They were mak- 
ing straight back for the dreamy East. 

The old man was rejoiced to be let 
out of the cave by those whom he thought 
were surely dead ; for how could so much 
shooting occur and still no one be hurt? 
He did not know that in war it takes 
eight hundred pounds of lead to kill a man. 

3«9 



"And the worst of it is," said Pete as 
he cut off a needlessly large chew of 
tobacco, " that dam poppin' of shootin' 
irons scairt our antelope. Ven'son is 
what I need, not Bunker Hill beans ! " 



310 






IL 

HE receding cloud of dust that 
I marked the disappearance of 

"They" gave fresh courage. 
The afternoon was spent in dragging 
willow and cottonwood logs from the 
grove a mile away. A lariat with one end 
tied to the horn of a saddle and the other 
to the log did the business. A strong 
gate was made of these logs. The gate 
opened outward and fastened with a bar 
on the inside. This was placed at the 
narrowest part of the pass — about fifty 
feet from the entrance. This gate was 
ten feet high, and was strong enough to 
withstand a siege from any barbaric host 
that might assail it. The Professor ven- 
tured an obscure joke about St. Peter 
guarding the gate, but it went for naught. 
Johnson called it "the narcotic," be- 
cause when locked by the bar, it tended 



to give sound sleep to those inside. The 
word narcotic was a new one to the 
Rattlesnake's vocabulary, but he was an 
apt student in this direction, listening 
closely to conversations between the 
Professor and Mr. Johnson. The gate 
was spoken of somewhat promiscuously 
as the neurotic, the pneumatic or the 
narcotic, but always with intent to its 
somniferous effects and peace tending 
qualities. 

Pete's craving for venison was fully 
satisfied when Johnson brought in a fine 
young buck a few days after. 

The guide had seen the drove feeding 
a mile away to the south and had directed 
Johnson to take his rifle and crawl to a 
certain point and wait until the antelope 
should feed up within range. 

"In course he can't kill one — but it 
keeps him busy," said Pete to himself, 
unconsciously using the Froebel methods. 

But Johnson had surprised both him- 
self, the guide and the buck; and that 
night when they dined on venison steak 

312 



made merry remarks about the party 
being " strictly buck." Pete was imvard- 
ly a bit jealous of this first kill and felt 
that he must do something worthy or his 
prestige might wane. 

" Talkin' of bars, gents," (nothing had 
been said of bars) " why, do you know, I 
think we should have a skin or two — it 
'ull be winter if we wait — and we must 
have an overcoat apiece, and as fer bar 
meat, it ain't half bad ! " 

So Pete explained that in a certain 
ravine about ten miles away bears were 
supposed most to congregate. 

" We'uU jest shet the old man up in 
the cave, as we did before, and me and 
you'ull go, Johnsing, to-morrer." 

But this matter of fact way of shutting 
the Professor up in a hole did not meet 
with Mr. Johnson's approval, besides that 
the old gentlemen did not relish it either. 

" We won't be gone over night, and if 
we are you'ull have grub enough in the 
coop ! " 

Pete had probably heard of certain 

3^3 D 3 



mothers who dispose of their children in 
this way when they wish to go visiting. 
Perhaps he himself had been locked up 
at home when a youngster — and so long 
as the old man was " safe in the cave 
what t'ells the odds ! " he argued. 

But Johnson would not listen to it. 

So it was arranged that the next day 
they would all go on a bear hunt. Pro- 
I'essor \Vilson had never shot a rifle and 
could not be induced to handle one. In 
fact he did not approve of using a gun 
save for the purpose of self-protection, 
to kill game that was necessary for food, 
or to secure wild animals for scientific 
purposes. Being a Professor he had 
three reasons for most everything. 

Pete declared that he stood exactly on 
the same platform and that although he 
had killed men and " injuns " and " var- 
mint," and " insecks " and " animiles " 
it was never except for a purpose that 
would go in one of the three categories 
mentioned. 

But no amount of argument could 

3U 



induce the old gentlemen to take to 
marksmanship. 

" Yet you have taught the young idea 
to shoot," interposed Johnson. 

" Yes, but not a rifle ! " 

"P'raps 'twas a blunderbuss," inter- 
posed Pete. 

They started on their bear hunt next 
day : went on horseback, all three. They 
started early and returned late. They 
had seen bear tracks but no bears ; and 
Pete was tired, hungry and in very bad 
humor when they dismounted at the 
entrance to Thermopylse Pass. 

It was dusk. 

They unsaddled their horses and turned 
the animals loose. Each man shouldered 
his big Mexican saddle. They entered 
the pass single file : Johnson first, Wilson 
second and Pete behind. They had 
nearly reached the mouth of the cave 
when Johnson saw something that caused 
him to turn and run against the Professor 
with such force that that worthy gentle- 
man was thrown from his feet and dashed 

3^5 



full on the bosom of Pete. The loose 
shale slipped beneath their feet and the 
three men and the three big saddles 
reeled, tottered like an empire, and fell 
into a confused heap. The three men 
sat up and as they did so they heard a 
wild scramble of feet hurrying up the 
canyon. 

Johnson and Wilson picked themselves 
up, but the guide still sat on the ground. 

'' Wall?" said Pete. 

" It is 'Jhey," said the old man. 

" But that's no reason fer runnin' over 
a feller and then sittin' on him ! " 

Johnson stood with gun in hand peer- 
ing up the dark ravine. A torch was 
lighted and things were found in direst 
jumble. The carcass of the antelope had 
been pulled down from where it hung, 
packages upset, bags rooted into, dishes 
broken and merry havoc played. 

** Bars ! " said Pete. 

"I thought so," said Johnson. "I 
saw one leap out of the cave, and two of 
them scurried up the pass." 

316 



t^t feegacg. 

** That was why you milled on us ! " 

" Yes, I was going to run back a.nd get 
my rifle! " 

" Of course — seein' you had it under 
your arm all the time ! " 

"Well, who wouldn't be frightened 
just aUttle to see bears in such a place? " 

" But we've been lookin' for 'em all 
day!" 

"Yes, if we'd stayed at home, we 
would have found them. All things come 
to those who wait.'* 

"Gents, I don't know how 'tis with 
you, but I'm hungry ! " and Pete started 
to make a fire. 

" Not supper vi^ith those bears up 
there! " 

" Yes, they can't git down." 

" Except this v/ay." 

"Sure." 

"That's the trouble ! " 

" No danger gents, we've got them 
bars!" 

" I think they have us," said Johnson. 

Then Pete went about getting supper 

317 



and he was in a better humor than he 
had been for days. He explained that 
black bears were regular pets. These 
bears were not hungry, for they had eaten 
up a lot of good **grub," so there was 
no danger. Then they had the whole top 
of the Last Stand over which to gambol. 
No bear would ever attack a man near a 
fire anyway, so Pete proposed to rest 
easy until morning, get a good night's 
sleep and then after breakfast go up on 
top and have some fun. 

Neither Johnson nor Wilson could eat 
much supper, but Pete ate enough for 
three, and regaled the others with bear 
stories to which they did not listen. 
Then he chuckled to himself over what 
he would do if the sheriff should come 
back now. He mourned over the fact 
that that gentleman had come so soon : 
and if the posse should then appear he 
would hide Johnson and Wilson in the 
cave, and then inveigle the party to the 
top of the hill where he would make them 
dance it out with the bears in a bear dance. 



Then he filled his pipe and calkd on 
memory or imagination, or both, for 
more bear stories. 

Finally at Professor Wilson's earnest 
request, they carried their bedding out- 
side of the gate and laid down to rest, 
but not to sleep. For Pete had bear 
stories to tell nearly all night. 

** Who'd ever thought we would git on 
the outside of the pneumatic for pertec- 
tion ! " said Pete. 

At last came the strugghng light of 
early dawn ; and the three men were up 
and dressed before the long yellow va- 
grant rays came streaking up the canyon. 

A hurried breakfast, and the Professor 
crawled into the cave and was duly 
walled up with many stones interlarded 
with jokes from Pete. The guide and 
Johnson examined their rifles and started 
for the top. Cautiously, with guns ready 
for a quick shot, they ascended the can- 
yon. In places they could plainly see 
bruin's plantigade tracks spread out Hke 
footsteps of a poet upon the sands of time, 

319 



At length their heads came on a level 
with the plateau ; they looked stealthily, 
but nothing was to be seen. 

Thinking the game might be hiding 
behind the sage brush, the men separated 
and moved slowly forward. But there 
were no bears on top of the Last Stand. 
It was full seventy feet of abrupt fall to 
the ground from any point, and although 
a bear can take quite a drop without dis- 
locating his vertebra, this tumble would 
have been too much even for a very 
reckless bear. Pete knew this. 

But a clue to the mysterious disappear- 
ance was discovered — a safe clue. The 
bears had found the entrance to a cave. 
In this they were wiser than Pete, for he 
never knew of the existence of this 
cavern. 

The hole where the bears had gone 
down was about twenty feet from the 
south edge of the cliff. The bears had 
dug out the stones and loose earth and 
the marks their bodies left in squeezing 
through the crevice were plainly visible. 

320 



Pete did not care to follow and Johnson 
\vas not anxious ; but both looked down 
that hole, and then they looked at each 
other. They saw that the apperture gradu- 
ally widened and led off on an angle 
toward the cliff. . Pete shouted down into 
the blackness but bruin had nothing to say. 
However an echo came back that told 
clearly that the place was hollow, and 
probably many feet in extent. 

Pete guarded the bear cave with cocked 
rifle,while Johnson, prone on his stomach, 
looked over the edge of the cliff. About 
fifteen feet below was a slight ledge that 
ran for perhaps forty feet along the cliff. 
From this ledge, which did not seem 
more than a yard wide, were several holes 
leading into the face of the rock. 

Johnson crawled back and leaving 
Pete, who sat smoking, watching the 
bear hole, he ran down and liberated the 
man of science. 

Soon the two came back, greatly ex- 
cited and in hot argument. 

"They are not x\thapascan, I tell you," 

321 



said the old man, " they are Aztecan or 
were built by people allied to the Aztecs 
— a prehistoric people — a full thousand 
years ago ! " 

" I think not, let me explain — " 

" You are presumptuous, sir. I have 
made this subject a specialty, sir, for 
forty years. This spot was the home of 
the Cliff Dweller. That ledge leads off 
into dozens of apartments, and we must 
examine them all. This is the greatest 
scientific discovery made since 1817, 
when Colonel Burleigh dug into those 
mounds at Tehuauntepec — I will prove it 
to you, sir — now follow me." 

The Professor of Biology had dropped 
on his knees to crawl into the bear's den. 
Pete's pipe fell from his mouth in horror, 
and he started up, but Johnson, younger 
and quicker, seized the old man by the 
legs and dragged him back. 

A consultation was held. 

It was decided to block up this bear 
pit in the interests of science : if there 
was an entrance from the cave out on to 



$?e feegacg. 



the ledge the bears would find it. So 
logs were dragged up and jammed into 
the hole, and then all was filled in with 
rubble and a pile of stones erected that 
might have served to mark the grave of 
an Indian chief. 

The bears were fast. 

Pete went, down the ravine and cut off 
pieces of venison which he brought back 
and dropped down on the ledge. 

The next morning the pieces of meat 
had disappeared. By going around down 
on the level and looking up the men 
could see where the bears had enlarged 
the entrance to several caves ; probably 
in a search for freedom. 

More food was dropped down on the 
ledge. 

In three days the bears would come on 
call and lift up their noses to catch up 
the choice morsels that were dropped 
down to them. Mornings, when the 
weather was warm and pleasant, they 
would lie on the shelving rock, blinking 
in the sun that cheers but not inebriates. 

323 



III. 

THE one valid objection to heav- 
en" — says a latter day pessi- 
mist, " is its one eternal round 
of monotonous felicity." 

Life at Thermopylae Pass was full 
enough of perplexing care to give exist- 
ence its necessary changes ; yet the Pro- 
fessor was not happy. He longed to 
investigate that line of caves along the 
face of the cliff, and still he would not 
consent that the bears should be killed. 
The bears had mvestigated the caves and 
jealous as men of science, would kill any 
one else that attempted to investigate 
them, at least Rattlesnake Pete said so. 

The pair was duly christened (from a 
safe distance) Antony and Cleopatra. 
They would lie in one of the caves, with 
their heads out of the entrance, and grunt 
back sleepy nods of recognition to their 
captors who jeered down at them. This 

3-4 



action of the captors was like unto that 
ot men who abuse others over a long 
distance telephone ; yet in the hearts of 
the bears there was no malice. So 
long as Antony had his Cleopatra, why 
should there be ? 

Johnson and the old gentlemen made 
a series of experiments to see what food 
they lilced best. They tossed down roots, 
barks, grubs, grass and meat, making a 
system of marks to show the avidity with 
which Antony and legal mate licked up 
the menu. Grubs were adopted as the 
standard of comparison and duly register- 
ed loo. Certain barks were placed at 
80, a peculiar swale grass at 75, and the 
scale ran down to jerked venison which 
marked 48, with Boston baked beans at 
only 25. 

The country for several miles around 
was scoured for new products ; these 
were offered at certain hours to the bears 
and the effect registered. But this was 
not without much disputation and hot 
bringing forth of facts from various works 

-^ /7 r 



on Zoology and Natural History. And 
as these books could only be cited, and 
not produced, accusations were made of 
wrong quoting, and exceptions duly noted 
and filed. All being duly recorded on 
birch bark for future reference and final 
settlement. 

No ink, pens or paper had been 
brought, but Pete shot an eagle and the 
pinions made good writing quills. Then 
ink was manufactured from a certain 
root which was boiled in water, and the 
birch bark cut in foolscap size was as 
good as Taylor's Dekle Edge with a 
water mark. 

A book was being written on " Bear- 
ology " — giving all the facts as to breed- 
ing, change of coats, habits, characteristics, 
etc., interspersed with stories supplied by 
Pete, throwing new light on certain bear- 
ish tendencies. Occasionally an argu- 
ment would come up as to the advis- 
ability of sacrificing the bears for 
truth's sake, so that the caves might 
be investigated. A secret ballot was 

326 



taken on the matter of execution. 
Two votes were in favor of imprisonment 
for life and one for the death penalty. 
There was little doubt but that Pete voted 
for the latter — in fact he afterward 
showed his prejudice against Antony and 
Cleopatra by exhibiting certain cicatrices 
on his torso ; which scars, by the way, 
were made to serve equally well for 
Indian battles and personal encounters 
on questions of honor. These facts were 
duly registered as " exceptions " on the 
birch bark. Above all things a scientific 
investigator should show an unbiased 
mind ; and that the expedition was in the 
interests of science both Mr. Johnson and 
Professor Wilson stoutly maintained. 

" How about They? " said Pete. 

" The fact is, They are conservatives 
and therefore afraid of advanced truth — 
that is why they have sought to defeat 
us ! " explained Johnson. 

The mounds at the top of the hill had 
been a source of curiosity to the old 
gentleman from the first. It was now 

327 



decided to let the bears hold the caves, 
rent free, for the present, and an investi- 
gation of the mounds should be begun. 
So digging operations were commenced. 

Samples of earth at various depths 
were regularly taken and properly labeled. 
Nothing of value was found, although a 
depth of ten feet was reached. But the 
earth all along showed that it had been 
disturbed, but not by nature's planning, 
so hope beat high. 

They had dug for nearly a week with 
pick and shovel and the old gentleman in 
his eager curiosity had put forth more 
effort than he was aware. He was sud- 
denly taken ill with fever and delirium 
and all digging was suspended. 

On the third night of his illness as 
Johnson and Pete sat by the fire outside 
the cave where the old man lay, the far 
away howl of a wolf was heard. Soon it 
was answered by another, then another. 
The sounds came nearer. In half an 
hour they were heard at the entrance of 
the canyon, only a few hundred feet away. 



*' There's no danger," said Pete in 
answer to an inquiring look from Johnson, 
" only it's not pleasant. I've been hugged 
by bars, chawed by painters, clawed by 
linkses, treed by wild hogs, tramped by 
bucks, horned by bufil^ers and tossed by 
an elk, but I never yet had a wolf tooth 
set in my hide. When I do, I'm gone — 
for when a wolf bites, mind you, he 
means biz. I had a brother who was a 
sailor and he tole me 'bout a thing as 
you call a shark — lives in water and very 
seldom comes on land. Wall, the wolf is 
the shark of the forest. He jest hangs 
'round and waits. If a man is sick in a 
cabin all the wolves in that section know 
it and they form a circle and jest wait 
and howl. Then they wait for a sick 
horse or a buffler cow 'bout to calve. 
They are like the pawn-brokers it St. 
Louis — they know when you are hard-up. 
Now they know the old man is sick — 
to-morrow he will be dead — or better ! " 

The night was rather cloudy ; but now 
and again the moon shown through the 

329 D« 



rifts bright and clear, and her rays fell 
with glint and shimmer on the desert 
patches of alkali dust. 

Pete took his rifle and went down and 
out of the ravine. The howls ceased for 
a time and then were continued from a 
distance back. The scout walked clear 
around the hillock and then lay down 
behind a bowlder near the entrance to 
the pass. 

Johnson looked after the sick man, 
piled more wood on the fire and waited. 
He was getting quite uneasy over the 
long stay of his companion : he had been 
gone nearly two hours. 

The howls could still be heard, first 
from one side then another, then from 
near the pass. 

Johnson looked up at the sky and 
suddenly saw the moon, bright and re- 
splendent, shining through an opening 
between two black clouds. At the in- 
stant came the sharp echoing report of 
Pete's rifle, fired three times in lightning 
succession. 

330 



— i 

Soon the guide appeared, very full of 
jokes, and quite sure that he had a dead 
wolf outside. The howls ceased, but 
were heard coming from a distance oc- 
casionally during the night. 

In the morning, sure enough there was 
not only one dead wolf, but two. Pete's 
reputation was redeemed. The " varmint " 
were dragged in so the sick man could 
stroke the fur with his hands. The event 
seemed to work a change in his condition, 
for he began to mend at once. 

" You must mount them Mr. Johnson — 
mount them," said the, old man in a 
feeble voice. 

And so Mr. Johnson set to work to 
mount the two wolves. He had had a 
little experience in this Hne and finally a 
fairly good job was done. Round pieces 
of white quartz were colored with ink 
and inserted in lieu of glass eyes. Pete 
thought it great fun to place the wolves, 
half masked behind foliage, in positions 
near the entrance to the pass, and then 
speculate on what certain men might do i| 



should they walk up the pass and sudden- 
ly discover the glare of those glassy eyes. 

Not long after a fine specimen of 
mountain lion was secured. The Pro- 
fessor took a boyish delight in helping 
mount the animal. It was placed on a 
flat rock, just at the entrance to the path, 
the intention being to take it inside the 
cave as soon as the skin was sufficiently 
cured. 

Nothing would answer next but a bear. 
The three men had reached a dead lock 
as to certain points in a bear's anatomy, 
each holding a separate view. Antony 
and Cleopatra could be examined any 
time and each man had offered to lower 
the others over the ledge to make investi- 
gations, but none cared to go ; and killing 
the bears was out of the question. It 
would have been red murder. In fact 
they seemed a part of the family, and 
their wants were looked after with great 
regularity. 

The exploring of the mounds had 
again commenced. The digging was 

332 



difficult, and perhaps this had something 
to do with Pete's agitation of the bear 
problem : he must kill a bear. 

So he was allowed to go off on little 

o 

expeditions of his own, on his promise to 
return each night. He killed several 
deer, a few jack rabbits and a coyote, 
but he brought back no bears. Splendid 
strings of mountain trout were caught : 
this was all right for viaterialis, but was 
not exactly in the interests of science. 
On Pete's return after one of his hunt- 
ing trips, the Professor and Johnson had 
great news to tell him. They had dug to 
a purpose and several skeletons, quanti- 
ties of curious pottery, beads and various 
bronze implements had been unearthed. 
These bronze tools proved the antiquity 
of the place and corroborated the Profes- 
sor's theories. He was in high spirits, and 
when Pete admitted ignorance on the 
subject of the Bronze Age, the Professor 
proposed a course of ten lectures on the 
subject, to be given the next month, with 
syllabi, and examinations to follow. A 



prize to be given to the man who showed 
the most proficiency. 

The names of Mr. Joshua Johnson and 
Mr. Peter Smith were duly registered for 
the course. 

The following morning Pete feigned 
illness and sent the Professor and Mr. 
Johnson off to look after the horses. In 
a very short space of time they came 
rushing breathlessly back. The old man 
dived into the cave and begged to be 
walled up ; while Johnson seized a rifle 
and ordered the scout to follow with 
another. 

" Never mind," said Pete, as he struck 
a match on the seat of his breeches, " I 
killed it yesterday ! " 

Explanations were in order. Pete had 
killed a bear. He had strapped the 
carcass on his horse, and brought it home 
the night before, planting it at " the 
front door." By spreading out the paws 
so that the head rested on them and 
placing some sage brush near, it certainly 
looked like a sleeping bear that might 

334 



t^t feegaci?. 



waken any moment. Two days were 
taken to skin and mount the brute. Then 
a full half day was spent in admiring it. 
Perhaps a portion of the night might 
have been taken too, had not a grim, 
quaking fear seized upon the three men. 
What was it? 

Smoke from half a dozen camp fires, 
rising blue and ghostly off down the val- 
ley, five miles away. 

" Injuns ! " said Pete for the second 
time. 



335 



IV. 

THE first effects of fear are the 
worst. But as the unknown mer- 
ges into the known, reason comes 
back from her hiding place and the pulse 
approaches normal. 

Rattlesnake Pete had the intuition of a 
wild animal, coupled with a modicum of 
logical power. From the number of fires 
started there were at least a hundred In- 
dians in the band, he felt sure. He also 
knew that the Last Stand was a sacred 
place to certain tribes and that they came 
here every few years to offer sacrifices 
and perform peculiar religious rites. 

If interfered with at such times the 
Indians m their frenzied zeal might kill 
any one who stood in their way. In fact 
the war-path usually takes its rise in pious 
fanaticism ; and the numbers of " Holy 
Wars " that have been waged are not 

336 



limited to the excursions of Don Quixote 
and his fellows. 

The scout knew that it was a custom 
of the Indians to camp some miles away 
from the sacred spot, and then go for- 
ward at break of day, reaching it at sun- 
rise. So there were only two things to do : 
run away and leave the churchly place 
for the pious savages, or stay and fight 
them. 

As for making peace, it was too risky 
to be considered. Indians proselyte with 
a tomahawk. But first of all our friends 
started as one man to get the three horses 
and the two burros inside. The animals 
were tethered inside the gate. This 
done, Pete put the case before his cabi- 
net and the pros and cons were consider- 
ed. To leave meant the relinquishment 
of all the scientific specimens, and further 
than this, when the Indians saw that the 
place had been recently occupied, they 
would follow and wreak vengeance on 
those who had disturbed the dust of their 
forefathers. 

337 



$(5e feecjoctj. 

" If we are goin' to fight, what's better 
than to have the choosin' of the place? — 
but it means heaps o' dead Injuns ! " 

" That's good," said the old Professor, 
" the skeleton we dug out of the mound 
all fell to dust, excepting the skulls. 
Perhaps we can bleach a few fine speci- 
mens ; you are familiar with the Parisian 
process, Mr. Johnson? " 

Science is so coldly cruel ! in this it 
rivals art ; for the devotees of each are 
ever willing to sacrifice all that the hun- 
ger of their god be satisfied. 

Johnson did not smile. Pete at first 
hardly caught the drift of the remark, 
but after an instant it came over him and 
he removed his sombrero and scratched 
his head. 

" Wall, that beats me — I'm out of the 
game — I've peppered a few redskins my- 
self, but never for scientific purposes ! 
But 'bout them skulls, where air they? " 

It seems five skulls had been secured 
from the mound. Johnson had placed 
them on a shelf in the cave. There they 

338 



v/ere — a row of grinning yellow death's- 
heads ; two with jaws intact showing sets 
of teeth that would have made a dentist 
write a poem, and one with a patch of 
long, coarse hair clinging to the cranium. 
Prehistoric man was neither bald nor 
toothless. 

To the consternation of the men of 
science, Pete took three of the skulls in 
his arms, and directing Johnson to bring 
the others, started for the " front door." 
About twenty feet back from the entrance 
they placed five flat stones at equal dis- 
tances, running across from side to side. 
Then on each flat stone they placed a 
skull. Crouching behind these they put 
the mountain lion, while on one side 
were the two wolves and on the other the 
black bear. 

Then the gate was closed, barred and 
barricaded with geological specimens. 
Rifles were cleaned, cartridge belts filled, 
and the old gentleman shown how to 
replenish the magazines. He got quite 
into the martial spirit and assuming a 

339 



$0e i^c^aci^, 

swashing air, even consented to fire a 
rifle : but this could not be thought of. 
" Wait 'till to-morrow, Uncle, and you will 
have a chance to pop ; I don't want to 
die now ! " 

The fire was put out, and there was a 
wait of several hours for daylight. 

But no sleep came — stories of Indian 
fights were supplied by Pete instead. 
And as Pete's party always came out 
victorious, the effect of the recital was 
not so trying to tired nerves as one might 
at first suppose. Fiction is often an 
inciter of bravery. 

Our trio of friends sat on top of the 
cliff straining their gaze off to the south, 
and listening for sounds. But there came 
only the sighing of the night wind, the 
occasional howl of a wolf, or the hoot of 
an owl. The stars gradually blinked out 
of sight : the darkness deepened. A soli- 
tary streak of pink shot up suddenly 
across the black of the east, then another 
and another. The south wind blowing 
in gentle swells — now ceasing and thtn 

340 



2:§e feegaci?. 

comirg again — brought faint echos of 
peculiar sounds — ki, ki, yi, yi, yi, yi — in 
shrill monotone, and with this a harsh, 
dull echo of drumming. 

The Indians were advancing. 

The ominous sounds grew plainer — 
nearer, nearer. 

From equator to zenith the east was 
all aglow, but still nothing could be seen 
of the oncoming army. The sounds grew 
harsher — the hosts of the Unseen were 
advancing. 

Pete fumbled his rifle nervously. He 
ordered the other two men to lie con- 
cealed, and on no account to fire until 
they heard his rifle. Then he slipped 
off down the canyon to defend the pass. 

The shadows of the night stole softly 
away and released one by one the distant 
mountain peaks, the waving trees at the 
foothills and the stretching plain. From 
out the grey nothmgness emerged glaring 
colors of yellow, red, blue and brown. 

The old man had dropped his rifle and 
lay half insensible with fright. On a 

341 



word from Johnson he peered through 
the sage brush and the rich vvierdness of 
the savage pageantry held him fast. As 
the scientific spirit came back, he forgot 
time and space and seemed to be staring 
at a panorama which had been gotten up 
to illustrate a life soon to be lost from 
earth forever. 

The savaojes advanced in a mass. A 
little in front rode a naked Indian on a 
pure white pony. Then followed on foot 
full forty " bucks " — naked to the waist : 
their bodies painted in various fantastic 
stripes and curious designs. They stepped 
Vv'ith high quick jerks ; brandishing clubs 
or guns, and all singing that wild, shrill 
chant, mixed with occasional falsetto 
notes that gave a demoniac suggestion to 
the whole. 

Following the men were women beat- 
ing dried skins and joining in the song. 
Then came children riding ponies drag- 
ging packs that were tied on poles. 

Straight to within ten yards of the foot 
of the cliff the noisy mob came ; they 

342 



were almost beneath the two men who 
were staring at them. Then they parted 
in twain — half going to the right and 
half to the left — all the time dancing and 
continuing the shrill sing-song that rose 
and fell Hke the waves on a tropic beach. 

Three times they encircled the sacred 
mountain. Then they halted for a moment 
at the entrance to the pass. The rude 
music ceased and its echo died away on 
the breathless air. A hot stifling silence 
fell. 

The crash of drum beating began 
anew and the shrill cries began with 
fresh vigor. 

The march had begun. 

Up the canyon they came — the naked 
savage on the white pony at the head. 
Johnson caressed his Winchester — his 
nerves grew tense — he waited for the 
sharp crack of Pete's rifle. He knew it 
would come as a surprise to the savages 
and that they would rush from the pass. 
Then he would pour his fire down among 
them ; the Indians would fall back and 

343 



make fresh onslaughts and so the fight 
might go on for days, this was what the 
scout had told and had not this scout 
been in many Indian battles? 

Johnson held his breath and listened. 
No shot was heard. The savage cries 
abruptly ceased and a quick running of 
feet, a slipping of hoofs on loose stones 
was heard. 

The Indians were rushing out of the 
canyon pell mell. The man on horse- 
back forced his pony straight through 
the mass behind, knocking down warriors, 
women and children. Those rushing out 
met in fierce collision with those going 
in, and for a minute bucks, ponies, 
squaws and papooses were piled heap on 
heap, like the slain at Waterloo. Only 
these were not dead. 

In five minutes the mob was a quarter 
of a mile away, had halted and was in 
startled council, staring back, gesticulat- 
ing wildly. Not a shot had been fired ! 

" They will be back ! " whispered John- 
son to the old man. 

344 



The Indians were now moving around 
to the north of the hill, coming nearer 
and nearer. They had approached to a 
point where their repulsive painted faces 
could plainly be seen. Suddenly they 
stopped, turned and without a word 
started away in wild stampede. 

The old man was frenzied with delight. 
He stood up and fired his rifle four times 
before Johnson realized what he was 
doing. 

At the last shot the white pony made a 
mad leap into the air, fell full on its head 
and turned a complete somersault. The 
rider jumped out of the heap unhurt and 
hurried after his vanishing companions. 

At the sound of the shooting Pete had 
started for the top. As his head emerged 
from the pass he saw the cloud of reced- 
ing dust, and a smile stole over his home- 
ly, swarthy face. His glance turned in 
the direction of his companions, and his 
face turned to stone and he stood as if 
rivited to earth. 

Johnson saw the change. He looked 

Ot" J D 9 



behind him to see the reason of it. He 
saw it. 

Not ten yards from where he was An- 
tony and Cleopatra were standing erect 
like human beings. Their front paws 
were resting on each others shoulders. 
They were dancing a solemn minuet. 



346 




V. 

EARS are like folks. When healthy, 
and not very hungry, and not in- 
terfered with, they have malice 
toward none, but not necessarily charity 
for all. Antony and concubine paid no 
more attention to the men than if there 
was an impassable gulf fixed between 
them. 

Liberty is sweet. The bears had dug 
their way out and had probably been 
loose on top of that plateau the entire 
night. Their soft slippered feet made no 
noise as they walked and gamboled, and 
our three friends intent on the danger at 
a distance, took no thought of the danger 
at their elbows. But just imagine stumb- 
ling over a bear in the dark ! 

The bears stood upright and danced a 
bear dance. Then they fell down and 
tumbled over one another like big, black 

347 



puff balls. Soon, sitting up, they got to 
their feet and galloped off awkwardly to 
the other side of the hill. Hapi)ening to 
think it was breakfast time and knowing 
that meals were always served at a certain 
time, they dived into their hole and then 
crawling out on the ledge, looked up and 
made plaintive whine and grunt for food. 

And so the old Professor dropped 
the food down, while Rattlesnake Pete 
and Joshua Johnson worked in hot haste 
filling up the door and vestibule with 
stones. A double quantity of rock cover- 
ed the den this time, and Antony and 
Cleopatra found, to their sorrow, that 
they had bartered freedom — the birth- 
right of every bear — for a mess of 
pottage. 

"To give the aborigines a welcome, 
and the bears their breakfast before we 
have our own, is the true Christian spirit," 
remarked Mr. Johnson. 

Pete made no reply, but taking the 
Professor's rifle out of the old gentleman's 
hands, solemnly cut a notch in the butt 

348 



and handed the gun back. Then both 
Johnson and Pete shook hands with the 
old man — much to his astonishment. 

To make things plain they pointed up- 
ward, to where three buzzards circled 
against the sky, and then across at the 
plain where lay a dead white horse. 

"Who killed it?" asked the old man. 

"You did, Uncle, shake again," said 
Pete. 

" But how do you know it was my shot 
that killed the horse?" 

" We don't know positive — nothing is 
sure in this life — but be'ans as no one 
else shot but you, we assume it, see? " 

" ' Hence we infer ! ' " interposed 
Johnson. 

" But surely you shot too ; you routed 
the enemy and they ran with unction." 

"And with unguent," added Johnson. 

"Yes, and no close on to speak of. 
But it was because they saw a mountain 
lion on good terms with a bar — somethin' 
no injun ever saw afore, and them wolves 
sort of lyin' lovin' like around loose, with 

349 



skulls to make things pleasant. You see 
they thought the devil was holdin' the 
claim down, and when they looked back 
and saw two big bars a dancin' the can- 
can up a top, they thought it was time to 
sneak. That's the last you'll see of them 
injuns fer a year — jest one year." 

And so our friends started a fire and 
cooked breakfast ; and Johnson and Pete 
made many foolish, irrelevant remarks on 
many themes, and the old Professor ex- 
amined the notch in the butt of the rifle 
and proposed a bear hunt. He seemed 
to be slightly intoxicated with his prowess ; 
still he explained that the shooting of the 
white horse was accidental. 

" It's all right, Uncle, they was goin' to 
kill it anyway. They brought it fer a 
sacrifice — fact ! But you acted as Big 
Medicine-man an' killed it fer 'em." 

" But about the skeletons ! " said 
Johnson. 

" Oh, they carried them all away — we 
cannot try the Parisian process I " groaned 
the old man. 

350 



" And if we wasn't righteous, like Dan 
in the lion's den, Anthonee and Cleopa- 
tree would have chawed us and we would 
have all bleached together by the buz- 
zard process ! I told you we'd better 
kill them bars ! " 

"The bears are all right — I'll hitch 
them up some day," said Johnson. 

Then they went out and buried the 
white horse, and discussed long on the 
beautiful shot the professor had made. 
They watched the buzzards settling down 
near the ground, and fired a volley at a 
coyote that skulked in the chaparral. 

Digging in the mound was begun again 
the next day, and many articles of in- 
terest were brought up. All had to be 
labeled and due record kept of all the 
circumstances of the find. 

The first light fall of snow had come 
and this reminder of winter suggested to 
Pete the necessity of laying in another 
stock of provisions. He accordingly 
made a trip alone as before, riding one 
horse and leading another, to the mining 

351 



camp forty miles away. He was gone 
three days but got back safely, bringing 
a big load of flour, tea, sugar, coffee and 
tobacco. For meat they relied entirely 
on game, and for clothing on skins. 

In fact, Pete and Johnson had made 
three complete suits from deer skins, and 
by way of variation had made a " full 
dress suit " for the Professor : trousers of 
speckled antelope hide (genuine doeskin), 
vest of black bear and coat of grey wolf. 

In bad weather the intention was to 
wear all of the garments wrong side out ; 
but when the weather was pleasant and 
the fur was out, the variegation was ex- 
tremely unique. The full dress suit was 
worn only on" lecture days," and on Sun- 
days, when chapel exercises were always 
held and science was laid aside : only 
ethical problems being then discussed. 
This " keeping Sabbath " was a very 
necessary break in the routine of work 
and helped divide off the time. A calen- 
dar was made on the face of a, flat rock 
in the canyon, and topics for many 

352 



discussions arranged for several months 
ahead. Lectures were given on each 
Monday, Wednesday and Friday. A 
course that had been given by Professor 
Wilson at Harvard was repeated " by re- 
quest." The subject being " The Har- 
mony of Life or the Sixteen Perfective 
Laws that govern the Vital Principle." 
On which occasions the Professor, of 
course, wore the full dress suit with the 
fur side out with care. 

Mr. Johnson also gave occasional lec- 
tures on archaelogy, illustrating them 
with specimens they had found. 

And all the tnne the excavations were 
going on slowly, like the uncovering of 
ancient Troy. 

To vary the program several short 
hunting trips had been made. A grizzly 
bear was secured and the event was so 
important that when old grey-back was 
dragged in by the help of three horses, a 
two weeks' vacation was ordered, and 
all indulged in much undignified campus 
frolic. 

353 



The grizzly was mounted and placed 
near the mouth of the canyon, a wolf on 
either side. Several black bears were 
killed and their skins made up into over- 
coats, all sewn with tendons for thread, 
and fish bones for needles, with hand- 
carved bone buttons. The raccoon skin 
caps with dangling tails were not especial- 
ly handsome, but were serviceable. 

There was not a razor or a pair of 
scissors within forty miles. 

" Boys, you are hairy as goats and as 
brown as Blackfeet," said Pete one day. 

" If I had whiskers the color of a 
coyote's tail I'd never mention hair," 
said Mr. Johnson. 

The old Professor's flowing white locks 
and patriarchal beard made him look like 
Michael Angelo's Moses, a piece of art 
that Pete had never seen. 

The days were passing pleasantly and 
profitably. The birch bark Ms. was 
piling up and the specimens accumulat- 
ing so that the cave had to be enlarged 
by digging out the soft tufa. 

354 



Pete worked at this house building 
vigorously. 

One day when Johnson and the Pro- 
fessor had been up at the mounds, and 
they had come back, the scout had " a 
'speriment in sockdology " that he wished 
to try. 

He ordered the two men to stay out- 
side while he went into the cave, then 
after he had shouted " when " they were 
to follow. So they followed, but no Rattle- 
snake Pete was to be seen. 

" It's a case of etherialization," said 
the Professor ; " I always knew he was an 
adept — we will write out the circum- 
stances and send the report to the 
Arena Magazine." 

But just then Johnson lifted an over- 
coat that hung on an improvised peg. 
Behind this coat was a hole leading into 
an adjoining cave, where Pete sat chuck- 
ling at the hugeness of his joke. 

In digging he had thrust his pick 
through the thin partition, and behold 
there was another cave as large as the 

355 



$9e £egaci?. 

one they called " home." The outside 
entrance had been completely covered 
by a landslide in ages gone. The cave 
was empty save for a few broken pieces 
of pottery. 

The Ms. and specimens were removed 
into this new room, which was called the 
laboratory. 

Six months had passed — months of 
work, months of play, months of restful 
change and returning health. 

A sense of security had settled like a 
benison over the camp. Tired nerves 
had become rested and calm sanity had 
come where before there was only 
crouching fear. Johnson had inwardly 
settled his plans for the future : as soon 
as spring opened he would send a letter 
to Celeste Wilson, then he would make 
arrangements for the Professor's return to 
civilization. Until then the time was be- 
ing well spent, for each day meant added 
harmony to systems that had been o'er- 
wrought. 

But one afternoon as the men were 

356 



digging at the mound a rifle shot was 
heard. Pete ran to bar the gate, and 
then came back. Half a mile away on 
the opposite side from the entrance to 
the pass were five horsemen. Again they 
fired a rifle in the air as a signal. Pete 
answered it with another. A man came 
forward carrying a white handkerchief on 
a stick. 

"Is Professor Wilson here?" asked 
the man. 

"Yes." 

" Well, there are friends here who wish 
to see him. May they approach unarmed 
and speak with him from the bottom of 
this cliff?" 

" In course," said Pete, patting the 
stock of his rifle. 

The man went back and held a short 
conference with his fellows. One of the 
men was left with the horses, the other 
three with the man carrying the white 
handkerchief came forward. They had 
approached within two hundred feet. 

Pete sat with rifle in hand. Johnson 

357 



and Wilson lay concealed, with guns iji 
their grasp, a short distance away, ready 
for hostilities. 

" That's the sheriff in front — the same 
feller that was here afore. The slouch 
behind is Joe Biffer, our lovin' friend, 
and the other is the ramrod at the 
Grand Central, and the other — dam if I 
know the other." 

" I know him, the sUm fellow with the 
new white hat is Charles Sarony," said 
Mr. Johnson. 



3S8 



VI. 

THE Professor gulped and stared 
hard through the sage — sure 
enough it was young Sarony ! 
The old man was drawing back the ham- 
mer of his gun to shoot, when Johnson 
wrenched the weapon out of his hands. 

" That's right, Johnsing, no need of 
kilhn' any more hosses ! " 

*' Who is the man behind?" asked 
Johnson. 

" Don't know," answered Pete, " he 
looks decent, but you can't alius tell — 
he's in mighty bad comp'ny. Lay low 
and cover 'em close, Johnsing, while I 
give 'em the grand buzz." 

It is not likely that these five men 
knew that a cocked Winchester covered 
them in a way so that in a fraction of a 
minute the bodies of every one could 
have been bored with cold lead, yet they 

359 



evidently had been cautioned by the 
sheriff to show no fight. 

" Wall, gents, we're glad to see you. 
What can we do fer you to-day? " 

" These gentlemen here wish to see 
Professor Wilson and that other man ! " 

" Oh, do they ! wall, why didn't they 
come right up to the front door and not 
go gallyvantin' 'round about it ! " 

'' We did start up the pass, but your 
whole blame canyon is full of wildcats ! " 

** Wall, they're all tied — but dam me if 
I don't let 'em loose, if you can't say 
quick what you want ! " 

" Don't raise a row Pete — just bring 
out your men so my friends here can 
talk to 'em." 

" And that dirty cuss standin' next to 
you — what does he want? " 

" You mean Kiuse Joe? " 

" The same, pardner ! " 

" Oh, he just come along for com- 
pany ! " 

"And the ramrod?" 

The landlord here spoke up for himself : 

360 



** Pete, you know I'm a square man — I 
never went back on you yet — 'swhelp me 
God, Pete, we're peac'ble. Waltz out your 
two men so these gents kin conwerse 
with 'em." 

Pete dropped behind the cover of 
brush and the little pile of stones, and 
taking Johnson's rifle, ordered that worthy 
gentleman and the Professor to stand up 
and see what the visitors wanted. 

" They can't hurt you, boys ; if any of 
'em winks crooked, I'll send the whole 
party to hell in a holy second." 

Mr. Johnson and Professor Wilson 
stood up. The men below stared at the 
hairy apparitions for a full minute. At 
last Mr. Sarony spoke up loud, clear and 
decisive. 

" They have changed, but I can swear 
to them on a stack of bibles. It is old 
Chilo Wilson and Josh Johnson ! " 

At that instant the landlord took from 
an inside pocket a buckskin money bag 
and handed it to the sheriff. And then 
most strange and wonderful ! Kiuse Joe 

3^1 



broke out into a long, prolonged guffaw 
of laughter. In this he was joined by 
the sheriff and the landlord. Then these 
three men at once started away without 
saying goodbye — all the time roaring and 
reeling with merriment — pounding each 
other on the back in wild and uproarious 
glee. 

Our men on the hilltop could not un- 
derstand it at all ! 

But the stranger and Mr. Sarony still 
remained. 

" Gentlemen," spoke the stranger, " we 
have come a long distance for you — we 
want to take you safely home. I declare 
that no harm shall come to you." 

Johnson looked perplexed. The Pro- 
fessor blanched. 

Then Sarony spoke up, " We are 
Pinkerton detectives — we are from Bos- 
ton " 

*' Thar it goes again ! " muttered Pete 
behind the sage. 

" We are detectives from Boston and 
you've got to go " 

362 



$5e feegocg, 

Sarony drew a pistol. But before he 
could level it Pete's Winchester spoke 
and the pistol was dashed full twenty feet 
away. The concussion, or fright, or both 
knocked that young man sprawling on 
his back ; his sombrero rolled off after 
the pistol and was bored, as the wind 
caught it, by six shots from Rattlesnake 
Pete's rifle. He seemed to have a special 
malison toward the hat. 

The remaining cartridges in the maga- 
zine were sent singing high in the air, 
and the empty rifle was then handed to 
the Professor. The old man sighted the 
weapon and snapped it repeatedly, vi- 
ciously yet harmlessly, in the direction of 
the retreating ** They." 

Sarony had gotten to his feet and was 
running hard for cover. The stranger 
held both hands above his head and 
walked leisurely away. He picked up 
the punctured sombrero, but wisely did 
not touch the pistol. 

The three laughing satyrs had moved 
further away when the shooting began, 

363 



and were now waiting a mile off to the 
north for their two disconsolate com- 
panions. 

Rattlesnake Pete and Johnson watched 
the party closely. There was consider- 
able gesticulating out there on the plain — 
evidently a hot argument was in progress. 

Then the visitors mounted and rode 
away to the east. In an hour they had 
become mere specks on the horizon and 
were soon lost to view in the scrub of the 
foot-hills. 



364 



"G 



VII. 

OD help us ! they're comin' 
back ! " 

Only an hour had passed. 
Laughter now gave place to fear : so 
soon do bright things turn to confusion. 

" I feel like a man who is wading in 
blood," said the Professor. 

" So do I," answered Pete ; " only we 
haint killed anything yet — 'cept a horse. 
But now we are in fer it. They are work- 
ing the wigwag ! " 

Neither Johnson nor Wilson knew the 
diabolical inference of the ** wig-wag ; " 
surely it was something worse than they 
had yet encountered — in malice farther 
reaching and in effect horrible — most 
horrible ! 

" The wig- wag — God help us ! " re- 
peated the scout as he looked long and 
anxiously with shaded eyes. Then he 

365 



sighted across his rifle, and Johnson, by 
lying flat and looking along the barrel 
could make out a flag on a long pole, 
several miles to the south-east. 

" Oh, its the wig-wag, the wig-wag 1 " 
groaned the old n^an. 

But the old man could not see the flag 
at all, and all Mr. Johnson could make 
out was that this flag dipped to right and 
left, bowed, waved and then stood still. 

It was coming nearer and the man 
could be seen who carried it. 

It was a red flag, and a mile behind 
was another. 

" Red means anarchy," spoke the Pro- 
fessor. " They have hired the anarchists 
to come out against us." 

" No, its telegraphin', that's all ; it bobs 
and wags and shakes and flourishes and 
that's the way They talk ! " 

" It's cipher — Oh, why did we not 
bring the code ! Can you make out what 
they say, Mr. Snake? " 

, " Of course, but you wouldn't under- 
stand it. Uncle, mostly lies nohow 1 " 

366 



The flag was approaching ; stopping at 
times it bowed and waved and wagged 
and moved now right, then left and 
seemed answering another behind. 

Then away off toward a gulch to the 
east, a little party of men were seen ad- 
vancmg ; they stopped from time to time, 
like the flagmen. These men had a spy- 
glass mounted on a tripod. 

" They are sizin' us up, but that's all 
right — let 'em peek, squint and stare, 
but when they gits in range we'll show 
'em ! " 

The flag came up within a quarter of 
a mile and Pete sent a shot over that 
way — another and another. The flag- 
man at length got it through his head 
that bullets were whistling dangerously 
near. He dropped his colors and ran. 

Soon several soldiers on horseback ap- 
peared. The horseman conferred with 
the men on foot and then came forward 
on a walk waving a handkerchief tied on 
a stick, 

" What did you shoot for," called the 

367 



sergeant who carried the handkerchief. 

" Jest gittin' the range, pardner, that's 
all ! Who is your friends that's waggin' 
and squintin' ? " 

" A surveying party — that's all. We 
are a detachment of the Seventy-sixth, 
guarding them ! " 

*' What they surveyin' fer? " 

" A railroad, of course. Now you must 
quit your shooting, you might hurt some 
one ! " 

" A railroad, did you say? " 

"Yes." 

The Professor was pallid; his breath 
came hot and short. 

"Whose railroad?" 

" How do I know — Jay Gould's -I 
'spose. It's none of my concern ! " 

" Is thar a man by name of Sar'ny in 
it, and 'nother called Sly? " 

" Perhaps so — what's the odds ! " 

" And they are goin' to run a railroad 
right here ? * ' 

" I believe so. That's what the head 
surveyor says, at least." 

368 



" And hoot and toot and ring and blow 
off steam and raise hell night and day- 
with coal smoke and headlights ! " 

" Perhaps, but just promise not to 
shoot any more and we will not disturb 
you ! " 

" In a minute we'll promise. You 
really said you was goin' to run a railroad 
past this knob ! ' * 

"Yes." 

"Wall, you go back an' give Jagoold 
our compliments and tell him to go plum 
to hell, he can't run no railroad near us !" 

" Can't, eh ! Isn't this Government 
land?" 

" No, not by a dam sight — I've lived 
here for forty years. It's mine and I'll 
have no blowin* off steam and tootin' 
round me. Climb now, my men are 
layin all round here in the rocks and 
brush holdin' Winchesters on you — when 
I say shoot they shoots ! ' * 

" How many are there of you ? ' * 

" One hundred and sixty-seven — not 
countin' bars and wildcats ! " 

369 



One of the surveyors had come up, but 
seemingly did not think it wise to ap- 
proach as close as the soldiers were. 

" Who are they, Charley," called the 
sergeant to the surveyor. 

** Those lunatics that the sheriff told 
us about this morning. They are a mur- 
derous lot and have a whole raft of bears 
and mountain lions that they have 
tamed ! ' ' 

" How many men are there in the 
lunatic asylum? " 

*• A hundred they say." 

" Well, they lie ; still we might, I sup- 
pose, run the line back and then across 
to the river. But can't you dislodge 
them! " 

Pete gave the answer with a volley fired 
over the heads of the soldiers. Then 
dropping on his knees he motioned for 
the Professor and Johnson to do the same. 
They took the cue and crawHng rapidly 
in different directions, began to shoot — 
to crawl and shoot — and shoot and crawl, 
crack — crack — crack — bang — bang — the 

370 



whole top of the knob was smoking and 
agleam with the boom of war, of fire and 
pestilence and sudden death. Villainous 
saltpetre held mad sway. 

" Don't shoot this way, Uncle, for 
heaven's sake, you've come within a foot 
of borin' my carcass." 

" I cannot shoot anymore — the car- 
tridges are gone ! " said the old man. 

" I'm glad ; I feel as if I'd been wrasslin' 
in prayer," said Pete; "my knees are 
worn through." 

Then they crawled to the edge of the 
cliff and watched the enemy, who had 
withdrawn nearly two miles, and were 
running the line off toward the river. 
The wig-wag crossed the stream, so did 
the stake-drivers and the man with the 
tripod. 

At sun-down, the entire party, with the 
squad of soldiers in the rear, disappeared 
up a gulch, clear to the north-west, five 
miles away. 



371 



VIII. 

IN ihe spring — various things happen 
of which poets sing. 

The snow was melting from the 
mountains, leaving great grey wastes, in- 
terspersed with long white streaks where 
the valleys ran. The •* Holy Cross," its 
arms miles in length, leaned at a restful 
angle near the summit of the distant 
mountain peak. 

The break-up had turned the stream 
into a turbulent booming river, yellow as 
the Tiber. But it was only a few days 
before the current ran with a gentle 
gurgle; and the birds that had not been 
seen for months came back and chirped 
and sang and called and busied about as 
if there were important things that must 
be attended to. 

On the south side of imbedded bowl- 
ders and rotting logs, where the sun's 

372 



rays fell warm and wooingly, flowers 
pushed their petals up and peeked out 
curiously. Instead of the complaining, 
snarling western wind, came gentle, lazy 
breezes, whispering softly with tidings 
from the southland. 

But long before the melting snow had 
turned the tiny stream to a booming 
river ; before the first daring robin red- 
breast had appeared ; before a single 
" spring-beauty " had thought of peeping 
forth, Mr. Joshua Johnson had written a 
letter — a long letter, full forty pages, on 
birch bark cut to a deHcate and aesthetic 
size. Then he wrote the letter all over 
agam. 

The contents of this letter we can only 
guess. But it must have been very im- 
portant, for Pete had noticed that certain 
sheets had been copied and re-copied 
and revised and then torn up and thrown 
in the fire. More than this, the writer 
had sighed and muttered to himself, and 
once had wept hot tears that mottled the 
page. 

373 



The scout was in charge of these men, 
so he put mere idle curiosity behind and 
watched their actions out of sense of 
duty. 

And then Mr. Johnson was so sly about 
this birch bark letter business that he 
attracted attention to himself in his de- 
sire to divert it — proving his humanity. 
At last the missive was sewed up in 
buckskin and duly directed, all one dark 
night when Pete was asleep (with one 
eye open). The package was hidden 
beneath a pile of skins, and Johnson 
turned in only to doze, toss and moan. 
And all the while Rattlesnake Pete 
thought on the vanity of human ambi- 
tions ; and the foibles, whims and idle 
notions that entangle the minds of men 
and srind their hearts in the crux of 
doubt and of the hopes that vade like the 
dew that bespangles the leaves at dawn. 
Only Pete did not put it quite that way. 
In the morning when Johnson and the 
old man had gone out to look after the 
horses, Pete reached under that pile of 

374 



skins and brought out the big letter in its 
buckskin envelope. He read the inscrip- 
tion and then placed the letter back in 
its snug hiding place. It was his duty to 
look out for explosives and things con- 
traband. 

The letter was directed thus : 

MISS CELESTE WILSON, 

44 APPIAN WAY, 

CAMBRIDGE, 

MASS. 



375 



IX. 

MR. Joshiin Johnson announced his 
intention of going to the mining 
camp (which was also a post- 
office) and of going alone. Supplies 
were getting low — someone must go — he 
would make the trip. 

Johnson's nut-brown, silky beard, his 
long hair, and deer skin dress were in 
keeping with his Samson-like build. He 
seemed like a viking bold who had drunk 
at the spring of perpetual youth. 

His hard work with pick and shovel in 
the mounds had hardened his muscles, 
the sun and wind had bronzed his face, 
and the rough, wholesome out-door fare 
had added full forty pounds to his weight. 
Pete looked on him with keen paternal 
pride. 

Johnson could now put ten shots from 
a Winchester into a smaller circle in less 

376 



time than even Pete himself. " I'll make 
a man of him yet," said Pete. 

But this long, sighful, tearful, soulful 
letter to a woman ! Rattlesnake Pete 
did not like it — it looked like that loony 
business coming back. 

Yet the scout made no oral objection 
to Mr. Johnson's going to the post-office 
— he even drew him a map of the route 
on birch bark. And as Johnson rode 
away he lifted a feeble yell and fired his 
revolver into the air. 

And the great awkward, graceful, hairy, 
handsome, uncouth youth went galloping 
gaily off across the plain, while the mate 
of his horse ran loose and followed loyally 
and lovingly close behind. 

Then the breakfast things were put 
away and the old Professor and Pete 
went to the top of the hill to begin dig- 
ging operations in the third mound. But 
the sun was warm and Pete had spring 
fever, or that tired feeling, or something, 
so he went and lay on his stomach and 
looked down at Antony and Cleopatra. 

377 D u 



Before long the old gentleman joined 
him and they both lay there kicking their 
heels in the air, talkii^g bear lore. Antony 
had shed his overcoat and Cleopatra had 
lost her beauty. Her dress now was a 
dull, rusty brown, sleazy and ragged. 

" Beauty is only on the outside — it 
never lasts for long," said the pessimistic 
Pete. 

The Professor made no objection. 
Then Pete continued — " Weemen are all 
alike — a\\'ful cute and cunning to-day, 
but homely and mean as hell to-morrer. 
Now look at Cleopatree thar. She was 
fat and round and smilin' last fall; see 
what a slouch she air ikdw, and uglier 
than a tree full o' wildcats — shee'd chaw 
you in a holy second if she had the 
chance. Oh, you can't tell me — they're 
all alike ! " 

Whether this remark applied to bears 
or women or both was not explained. 
Pete was thinking of that letter buttoned 
close inside of Johnson's vest, where 
every heart throb of the young giant 

378 



pulsed gently against it. Johnson must 
have been ten miles away by this time, 
every moment widening the distance and 
sending him farther. 

The old man went back and began 
■carefully examining the earth that had 
been thrown out. Pete walked off down 
*' home " to get his tobacco. Having 
secured his consolation he went back and 
sat on a bowlder that lay just at the 
t-op of the pass. 

He seated himself and smoked. He was 
in a deep reverie and looking off toward 
the western hills — looking intently and 
seeing nothing — lost in a maze of thought. 

He heard a woman's voice, high 
pitched, metallic. Such sounds had come 
to him several times of late — he shivered 
— were his senses proving false? It must 
be so — insanity. Again he heard that 
rasping voice, and still he starea out in 
front with glazed eyes. 

Suddenly he felt something thrust him 
in the ribs. He jumped, turned, and 
there stood a woman : a white haired, 

379 



well dressed woman. Behind her was 
another woman : smaller, young and 
dazzlingly handsome, Pete thought. 

He was now positive that reason had 
tottered. He tried to speak but only 
gibbered and squeaked. He pinched 
himself, started to rise but his legs played 
him as false as his head, and he only slid 
off from the bowlder in a lump. 

" My dear man, I hope you are not 
ill 1 " said the old lady. 

" No, no, I alius does this way," stam- 
mered Rattlesnake Pete, getting to his 
feet and feeling for his revolver. 

Still, what was the use — it was too late 
to fight. An hour before they might have 
barricaded the pass and stood the enemy 
off at the point of loaded rifles. It was 
now too late — all was lost. The women 
were at the top of the citadel and in full 
possession. 

" You see, gals, I wasn't jest exackly 
expectin' of you — you fired no signals, nor 
gave nary whoop, and when you jabbed 
me with that umbersoll, why you see " — 

380 



" Bat surely you will excuse us. I 
spoke three times but you were looking 
off so intently that you did not hear. Is 
Professor Wilson to home ? I said is 
Professor Wilson to home?" 

But the old Professor had seen the 
visitors and was now coming forward. 
The young woman ran to meet him and 
he folded her to his heart and sobbed 
aloud. The elder lady kissed him with a 
fierce prodding smack and embraced him 
vehemently. 

" Wall folks, you must 'skuse m.e — I 
must look after them burros to wunst ! " 

The Professor called Pete back and 
introduced him to his wife and daughter. 

The scout shook hands with each, with 
such friendly force and vigor that both 
women writhed in pain. 

" Wall, how did you leave the folks, 
Celeste, and how did you get here ! '* 
asked the guide, now assuming a manner 
as extremely nimble as his actions were 
awkward a moment before. 

Before the young woman could reply, 

381 



the scout's attention was directed to the 
old lady swinging a white petticoat, that 
she had someway mysteriously produced, 
above her head. 

A mile away across the mesa were 
three horsemen. They evidently were 
watching for the signal, for they fired a 
revolver as answer and at once turned 
their horses to the east and rode away. 

" They are the men we hired to bring 
us here from Dead Horse City. They 
would not come any nearer. One is the 
sheriff and the other two he hired. We 
paid them two hundred dollars. They 
were very polite and gentlemanly, and 
agreed to wait out there for us in case 
you had gone away." 

"And — and wasn't you scairt comin' 
up the pass ? ' ' 

" Why, yes, we were anxious of course, 
we feared we would not find you — find 
you well — and alive." 

The young woman was looking anxious- 
ly around. 

" But didn't you see nothin' that sent 

382 



streaks up yer backs, and made a creepy 
feelin' go crawlin' over you? " 

" Why we saw the stuffed animals, of 
course. Papa always delighted in such 
work. How good that he could amuse 
himself with it here. But where is Mr. 
Johnson? " 

"Oh, Johnsing, he's flew the coop ! " 

The young woman turned pale and 
stretched her hands in half supplication. 

" He's vamoosed— skipped — gone away 
to the postoffice? " 

" Oh, thank you. Then he will return 
soon? " 

" In three days. He's gone to send a 
letter to you " 

''To me?" 

" Yes, I tole him he better wait, that 
you'd be here soon — we went after bars 
wunst and when we got home they was 
here. Gosh ! I forgot all about them 
burros ! " 

And Pete started off on a run. 



3^3 



X. 

IT took Pete quite a while to look after 
his live-stock. It was nearly dusk 
before he came shuffling up the 
canyon. 

"And have you no stove — mercy me ! 
How do you expect any one to cook? " 
asked Mrs. Wilson as Pete appeared. 
" Don't expect no one to cook ! " 
" Gracious, here I've been hunting all 
over for dishes and eatables and Chilo is 
almost starved and I am faint for a cup 
of tea — and this is the way you look 
after my husband, is it, when he pays 
you a hundred dollars a month, as he has 
just told me ! A hundred dollars a 
month and board, is that right Chilo? I 
thought so — goodness ! In Cambridge I 
never paid more than three dollars a 
week for a girl, I said I never paid over 
three dollars a week, never !" 

384 



Celeste saw the need of shifting the 
topic of conversation. 

" We are so glad you have come, 
Mister — Mister Peter. Mamma and I 
have never before camped out. Now we 
are just going to watch you get supper ! " 

" All right, gals, but you must help me 
when I shouts ! " 

" Oh, of course we'll help." 

*' Wall, we must start a rousin' fire 
first!" 

So Miss Celeste helped Rattlesnake 
Pete bring the brush, or she thought she 
helped and Pete was sure she did ; and 
as the fire began Lo crackle Pete's mood 
melted into good nature. Soon a good 
bed of coals was made and the tea kettle 
was singing, and beneath, on the coals, 
the venison sputtered in the' skillet. 

To Pete, the girl's manner was as subtle 
as the odor of wood violets, and her every 
act as graceful as those of a pewee at 
nesting time. What he thought of her 
mother I really do not know. He washed 
his hands at the spring and kneaded the 

38s 



Z^e £egac)5. 

dough for biscuit on the big flat rock, 
and then baked the biscuit on a shovel. 
Miss Celeste brushed off the bread-board 
and spread a clean towel across it for a 
table cloth. 

Mrs. Wilson explained that she always 
took her tea with plenty of milk and a 
little sugar, please, to which Pete replied, 
"And so does I — when I kin." 

This made Celeste laugh and the old 
gentleman smile and Mrs. VV^ilson did 
not take it amiss. That worthy lady 
scrutinized the tin cups carefully and in- 
sisted on washing them herself before 
they were used. Then she poured the 
tea, and after drinking part of a cup 
explained that the faint feeling was en- 
tirely gone. Pete declared that it was the 
same with him, and Miss Celeste said she 
never felt better. The Professor's appe- 
tite was hardly as good as usual ; the scout 
observed that he was rather thoughtful. 

The two women insisted on " doing the 
dishes," and then a rousing fire was made 
and all sat looking into the cheerful blaze. 

386 



"Mr. Snake," said Mrs. Wilson. 

" Mr. Snakesmith, you mean," answer- 
ed Pete. 

" Mr. Snakesmith, my husband tells 
me you were entrusted with all that 
money that Mr. Johnson and my dear 
husband took away ! " 

" Yes, ma'am." 

" Get it for me, I will take care of it 
now." 

Pete looked at the Professor. 

" I think — I think Celeste better take 
care of it," answered the old man after a 
pause. 

" No, I will take care of it myself," 
said the old lady. 

" It's all sewed up in a wolf skin and 
hid in the rocks — I'll show the gal where 
it is." 

" And do you — do you think that Mr. 
Johnson will not be here before to-mor- 
row night? " asked the young woman after 
a rather painful pause. 

Pete removed his pipe, blew a cloud 
of smoke upward and replied : 

387 



" Mebbe not then — it's forty mile and 
mighty rough." 

Then there was silence for a space. 

"And where is he to-night? " 

" Sleepin' out under the stars, rolled in 
a blanket, his saddle fer a piller ! " 

The pause was a little longer this time, 
and tinged with grey. 

" Didn't you folks camp out comin' 
over? " 

" No, the sheriff took us on a longer 
route than the direct one ; so we stopped 
each of the five nights at the cabin of 
some miner's or cattleman's family. We 
came by the way of a place called — what 
was that funny name, mother — oh, yes, 
* Tabor's Roost' ! " 

" Why, that's the postoffice whar John- 
sing has went ! " 

" Then we passed him on the way? ** 

" Yes, not half a mile apart — you 
prob'ly took the reg'lar trail while he took 
the sheep path that runs up the gulch." 

" What a queer coincidence," said the 
young woman with a sigh. 

388 



" And that letter for you — he might a' 
saved his money — a letter like that 'ud 
cost a heap fer stamps ! " 

The fire was burning low; the wind 
had risen to a dismal howl ; the scream 
of a panther came echoing across the 
night. 

Pete Hghted a pine knot and drove its 
sharp point into the floor of the cave so 
that it stood upright. Its rays cast a 
glow into the cave adjoining; the labora- 
tory was set apart for the use of the two 
Avomen. 

The scout gave them fully two-thirds 
of all the blankets and robes, and then 
Celeste Wilson and Mrs. Wilson crawled 
into this guest chamber, made by men, 
ages agone, and bade the world good 
night. 

The old gentlemen sat by the fire, his 
back against the rock wall, sound asleep. 

Pete filled his pipe afresh and smoked 
hard and furiously. After ten minutes he 
knocked the ashes out on his boot heel 
and went over and thrust his head into 

389 



the outer cave : '* I say, Celesty, 5^ou 
ain't asleep — no, I thought not — who did 
you say them fellers was? " 
"To whom do you refer? " 
" Those fellers that guided you." 
" You mean the two men the sheriff 
hired to accompany us here?" 
" Yes." 

" Why one was a Mr. Biflfer — he was 
very kind — the other's name, really I 
have forgotten." 

" And which way are they goin' back? " 

"The same way we came, 1 think!" 

"That's all, thankee, 'night." 

Pete barred the gate ; laid the old man 

down and covered him with a bear skin; 

then rollmg himself m a blanket, with a 

rifle in reach, went to sleep. 

The next morning the women were up 
betimes. They helped get breakfast, and 
the young woman showed a genuine de- 
light in camp life. Mrs. Wilson said she 
might stand it a week, but could not, and 
moreover would not, endure it longer. 
She had come for her husband — he was 

390 



$6e S:,cciac2> 

now well and strong — and they would all 
start back as soon as things could be 
packed up. 

Rattlesnake Pete looked at the old 
gentleman enquiringly. 

*'Yes," said the Professor, " we will 
start back as soon as we can get the 
specimens packed up." 

" Wall, you'll have to make pack-horses 
of every animile we got — and all hands 
walk." 

" Very well, we will walk, but we will 
go — I said we will go," remarked Mrs. 
Wilson. 

The old man seemed to be slipping 
back into despondency. 

" You know the College wants you 
back, papa," said Celeste. ** Professor 
Agassiz came to see us only a week be- 
fore we left. Some one has endowed the 
Chair of Biology and no one can give the 
lectures so well as you." 

" Yes, yes, no one can do it so well as 
I," repeated the old man. 

And then the young woman sat beside 

391 



him, and hcl;! his hand and told him 
about how she had completed the book 
on Bacteria, with the help of his notes, 
and of how it was a great success. 

"What book was it daughter dear? " 
plaintively said the old man. 

Her answer was only two big tears that 
chased each other down her face. 

Pete looked the other way and made 
pretense of whistling. 

" He may be here to-night, Mr. Smith, 
don't you think so?" asked the young 
woman after some moments. 
" Who you mean — Johnsing? " 
" Yes, Mr. Johnson." 
** Ves, he might be here to-night ; we'll 
sit up fer him anyway and keep the 
supper hot ! " 

"That's so, we will," said the girl smil- 
ingly. " How surprised he will be ! " 

That night they kept the fire going 
and burned a beacon Hght out on the 
plain opposite the canyon, but Johnson 
did not come. They burned the beacon 
light again the next night. 

392 



t^t £egae$. 

Three days — four — five — six — a week 
had come and gone since Johnson gal- 
loped gaily away. 

No tidings had come and the horse 
and rider had not returned. 



393 



BOOK V. 



I. 

ON the tenth day after Joshua John- 
son left the Last Stand, he was safe- 
ly lodged in the Essex County jail 
at Boston. The five hundred dollars offered 
by the Alumni Association for his capture 
had been promptly paid. Then the same 
men who made the offer of reward for this 
man's body, dead or alive, cheerfully 
signed his bail bond. 

The alacrity of this paradoxical pro- 
cedure somehow reminds one of the 
Chicago couple who were granted a de- 
cree of divorce one forenoon. In the 
afternoon of the same day they presented 
themselves at court and were married by 
the judge who divorced them — all with 
hearty congratulations, and due kissing 
of the bride by the witnesses, followed by 
a nice little supper at the Grand Pacific : 
which consistently paradoxical with the 

397 



incident, was not very grand and never 
pacific. 

Johnson was released at five o'clock in 
the afternoon, and was immediately taken 
in charge by full fifty Harvard students. 
They forbade his interviev^^ng a barber 
and refused to give him a change of 
clothing. 

Nominally he had liberty, but surely it 
was far from freedom. He was permitted 
to write a note to a certain Miss Celeste 
Wilson, who resided at 44 Appian Way, 
Cambridge. This note explained to this 
young woman that since writing her a 
long letter a few days before, Mr. John- 
son had unexpectedly thought best to 
start for the East, and he would do him- 
self the honor of calling on her at nine 
o'clock the following morning. 

This note was given to a sleek sopho- 
more standing by, who promised to de- 
liver it to the young lady in person with- 
out delay. 

A dozen or more carriages were called 
and a drive taken to Cambridge, where 

39- 



the glad news was given to every one, 
that Professor Wilson was well and 
hearty, and would soon return. 

There are nearly three hundred in- 
structors at Harvard, and if students are 
not in a certain teacher's classes they are 
not likely to know the man. Besides 
this, a large contingent of students come 
and go each year ; but from the yells and 
cheers and shouts, one might have sup- 
posed that the return of Professor Wilson 
meant personal joy to all, salvation to the 
University and long life to Cambridge 
town. 

Johnson in full suit of buckskin, with 
a wolfskin cap, with its dangling tail, 
was paraded through Harvard Square 
and college yard amid wild hurrahs and 
wild enthusiasm. In front of old Hollis 
a temporary platform was erected where 
short speeches were made. At the men- 
tion of Professor Wilson's name " Orange 
John " broke in with a falsetto cheer 
that was taken up by the crowd in a way 
that made further speaking impossible. 

399 



t9e feegact. 

The line ot march was then continued 
out Harvard Street, back over the 
** Longfellow Bridge," through Boston 
Common to the Parker House, where the 
best suite of rooms was placed at John- 
son's disposal. As a student, Johnson 
had been practically unknown, but now 
his popularity was greater than that en- 
joyed by President I^liot himself. 

A barber was in waiting who gave the 
prisoner a clean shave and cut his hair. 
He was then given a bath, a set of silken 
underwear was provided and a full-dress 
suit was produced. All this, with a white 
tie and patent leather shoes, worked a 
miracle in the young man's appearance. 
He was taller by a head than any of his 
captors, ruddier, handsomer, manlier. 

He was led into the grand banquet 
hall where one hundred Harvard men 
seated at the festive board were awaiting 
his advent. And so they feasted. 

When the eatables were removed, and 
smokables and drinkables were brought 
in, the toast-master arose and introduced 

400 



the honored guest of the evening : Mr. 
Joshua Johnson. 

The present writer was one of the 
guests who sat at meat on that memorable 
night and well remembers the becoming 
embarrassment of the manly youth as he 
arose to speak. After these ten years 
have passed, memory cannot attempt a 
verbatim report, but it was about as 
follows : 

" Mr. Chairman and Gentlemen of 
Harvard University : 

" You doubtless expect me to speak to 
you of where I have been since I last 
saw you, and you also expect me to give 
you tidings in detail of our beloved 
teacher. Professor Chilo Wilson, [cheers, 
with cries of * Wilson's the boy ' — ' what's 
the matter with Chilo,* etc.] There are 
some aspects of this case that are very 
painful and I trust you will pardon me if 
I pass over them entirely and dwell only 
on what is pleasant and hopeful. [' Hear ! 
hear ! '] First of all let me say that Pro- 
fessor Wilson is well. I left him in 

401 



Southern Colorado ten clays ago this 
morning. I mounted my horse and rode 
away across the plain, and looking back 
after I had ridden half a mile, I saw his 
white hair streaming in the pleasant 
breeze and his hat waved aloft as a bless- 
ing. I then rode onward toward my 
destination. 

" That night when sun-down came I 
had ridden forty miles. I reached a 
small town or camp called Tabor's Roost. 
I slept at a boarding house which is kept 
for the accommodation of the miners. 

'* In the morning, before breakfast, I 
started out for the post-ofiice, as I had 
important communications to send away. 
I entered the store where the post-office 
is kept. I stamped my letters — I gave 
them to the postmaster and then I walked 
out of the building. As I stepped onto 
the sidewalk I was confronted by three 
men with pistols. There was no chance 
to fight, they threatened to shoot if I 
moved, so I did not move. They took 
away my arms and money, and hand- 

402 



cuffed me, as you see from these marks 
on my wrists [cries — oh, oh, oh]. To 
prevent a rescue by the people of the 
camp, these men explained that I was a 
horse-thief, which in that country is the 
most serious charge that can be brought 
against a man. They put me on a horse, 
which was led by another man on horse- 
back. In two days we reached a place 
called Dead Horse City. One of the 
men who captured me was the sheriff, 
the others I do not know. 

The sheriff knew that you had kindly 
offered a reward of five hundred dollars 
for my capture [laughter] and he asked 
if I would be willing to come on to Mas- 
sachusetts without a requisition. I had 
concluded that I would like to come any- 
way ; besides that, Dead Horse City is 
not a pleasant place to remain in, 
[laughter] so the sheriff and I started, 
handcuffed together. We arrived here 
in good condition. 

"You have paid the sheriff the five 
hundred dollars reward as you had agreed 

403 



and here I am ! [Loud and prolonged 
applause.] 

" I have several small affairs to attend 
to, but expect to start back for Colorado 
to-morrow night. I will go direct to where 
Professor Wilson is, and as soon as we 
can do so consistently, we will pack up 
our effects and return to Fair Harvard 
[applause]. With Professor Wilson, there 
is now one of the bravest men I ever 
knew. He is illiterate and sometimes 
profane, but he has stood by us manfully ; 
his name is Peter Smith, but he is called 
Rattlesnake Pete. We also have two 
live bears which we have named Antony 
and Cleopatra, that we hope to bring 
back. 

" Then we have several fine mounted 
specimens of wild animals, a large collec- 
tion of geological specimens and much 
valuable specific memoranda. 

** But best of all, we have a most inter- 
esting assortment of prehistoric relics 
taken from Indian mounds that we have 
explored. The excavations we have begun 

404 



are not yet complete and I feel that we 
should continue them further while we 
are on the ground ; this is also Professor 
Wilson's wish. It is therefore likely that 
we cannot return to Cambridge short of 
three months, when all of the tangible 
results of our exploration will be presented 
to the Peabody Museum. 

^' Professor Wilson did not send his 
affectionate greetings to you when I came 
away, but I am sure he would have done 
so if he had known that I was so soon to 
see you. Gentlemen, I thank you for 
your attention." 

At the conclusion of his speech there 
was a wild burst of applause which was 
kept up for several minutes. Professor 
Wilson's health was then proposed and 
Assistant Professor Barrett Wendell re- 
sponded. Then Rattlesnake Pete's health 
was drunk. Next came Harvard College, 
the girls, the President of the United States 
and at last deep libations were poured 
out to Antony and Cleopatra. 

It was a great night, and an event 

405 



which does not need these lines to be 
recalled by those who were present. 

As the party broke up at two o'clock 
in the morning, Johnson beckoned to the 
sophomore to whom he had entrusted the 
message to Miss Wilson : " Did you de- 
liver that letter?" asked Johnson. 

** What letter? " hiccoughed the youth 
— " oh, yes, I remember — she wasn't 
home — I gave it to a woman next door — 
she said she'd give it to her when she 
came back — I say, Johnson, haven't we 
had a devil of a time? " 



406 



II. 

THE next morning at five minutes 
of nine o'clock, Mr. Johnson, clad 
in a ready made suit of modest 
navy blue, turned up Appian Way. 

His heart beat fast as he approached 
the well-known gate. Would she be 
waiting for him— watching at the window 
- — and come running down the walk to 
meet him? Of course she would. Not 
on his own account, perhaps, but because 
he brought tidings of her father. She 
must have a heart of stone and be un- 
worthy of the name of woman if she 
allowed him to even ring the bell ! 

But stay — the neighbors — this was such 
an important momentous meeting — of 
course she would restrain herself and 
wait until they were alone. When the 
heart is full to bursting it is as calm as 
when dull indifference rules. 

407 



He rang the bell a second time and 
adjusted his necktie carefully. 

" The folks are not at home ; leave your 
message next door, sir," called the post- 
man as he passed. 

He was a jolly good natured postman, 
the i)et of all the women on the street. 

" I'm sorry, but perhaps it will come 
this afternoon." He laughed and shook 
his head at a woman who was sweeping 
the sidewalk across the street. 

Johnson came down the walk. The 
house next to No. 44 was built directly 
on the street. The jolly man in grey 
stopped and tapped at the window. The 
sash was thrust up — " Oho, oho, oho ! 
and here's a letter for you — but wait, I 
almost forgot, a valentine for Miss Wilson 
in my bag. Now isn't it queer ! all sewed 
up in chamois ; many a letter I've carried 
but none like that, and fifty-two cents in 
stamps on it — one cent for every week 
in the blessed year. What a pile of 
mail you'll have for 'em when they get 
back ! " 

408 



" I say, one moment, Madame, has 
Miss Celeste — that is — the Wilson family 
gone away? " asked Johnson. 

" Yes, of course, you know the old 
gentleman was abducted six months ago. 
They think they have found him — clear 
away in the Rocky Mountains — Miss 
Celeste and Mrs. Wilson went to bring 
him back — left three weeks ago. We're 
expecting them every day now. Nothing 
particular, I hope?" 

"And the place?" 

" Oh, where they have gone, ' Old 
Horse City,' I think ! " 

« It was not Dead Horse? " 

" Yes, come to think of it, yes. Wild 
Horse City. But that is not the place 
where they have gone — that's only the 
end of the railroad. They have to go 
nearly a hundred miles then on horse- 
back. You might leave your message 
with nie, I'll give it to Mrs. Wilson when 
she comes." 

" Have you heard from them since 
they started?" 

409 



" No, not a word ! " 

The man did not wait longer. He 
thanked the woman nervously and hurried 
away. 

Then this woman came out with a 
package all tied up in buckskin, with 
fifty-two cents in cancelled stamps on it, 
and she showed the package to the woman 
who was sweeping off the steps across the 
way. And these two women talked about 
the package and the big handsome young 
man who acted so kind of frustrated, and 
about the Wilsons who had had so much 
trouble ; and about the weather and 
things. 



410 



w 



III. 

E have been here for two 
ik \/\/ weeks," protested Mrs. Wil- 
son, " two weeks and it is no 
place for my husband — he is growing 
worse every day " 

The two women and Pete were stand- 
ing on the hill-top looking anxiously off 
to the east. ^ 

*' I can't argufy with you Missus, you 
are too many for me, but we'll stay till 
Celeste says scoot." 

" Yes, you wish to put the blame on 
my daughter, that's just like a man, I 
said that's just like a man." 

" But, Mamma, I am willing to rely on 
Mr. Smith in this case. He knows all 
about the country and its dangers. He 
thinks that if we go home now, Mr. John- 
son may come back here and find us 
gone ! " 

411 



" Well, what of it, wasn't he gone when 
we got here? He will never come back 
here — he has just simply ran away — de- 
serted, just as he ran away before. How 
much money did he take Mr. Smith — I 
said how much money did he take?" 

" No difference how much money he 
took — he didn't light out. He haint that 
kind. He's kicked the bucket more 
likely." 

Pete sat down on a stone and was fill- 
ing his pipe. 

" He's done what? " 

" Passed in his checks 1 " 

** Dead, you mean?" 

" I'd liefer say he was dead than skii> 
ped. A grizzly may have grabbed him, 
a prowlin' band of Injuns may have laid 
for him, but the truth is, you'll find, he 
was held up and run off by them feller^ 
that brought you here ! " 

'' And why should they trouble him ? " 

" Wall, sev'ral reasons. They might 
grab us if we'd go back by Dead Horse ; 
they tried to lift us out of here hard 'nuff. 

412 



t^t fcegocg. 

Johnsing knows we're here. If he's 
alive, he'll git loose, and if he gits loose 
he'll pike fer here, so here we'll stay fer 
jest a month and then we goes — if the 
gal says so ! " 

Several just such arguments as this had 
taken place before and they always wound 
up by the scout's refusal to budge. 
Celeste shifted the responsibility on to 
Pete, and Pete passed it back. For these 
two, so totally unlike, had come to a 
mutual understanding on one point at 
least, that is, that they would wait for 
Johnson so long as there was a possibility 
of bis returning. 

The scout had digged in the mounds 
and sought to renew interest in the scent 
of rich finds. But the old man had lost 
all animation ; and as the Professor's in- 
terest flagged, Pete's arose. He worked 
with pick and shovel as never before. 
Celeste assisted, carefully raking the fresh 
earth for relies. Besides, they hunted geo- 
logical specimens, and made collections 
of butterflies, working with earnest zeal. 

413 



Three weeks had passed, grim, dragging 
weeks of pain. All four had been work- 
ing at the mounds. The old man had 
gone down the canyon, closely shadowed 
by Mrs. Wilson, who followed him every- 
where to see " that he did not hurt him- 
self." 

" Mr. Smith ! " 

*' Yes, Celesty? " 

" We are making believe ! " 

" Of course we air." 

•' If we should strike solid gold here it 
would make no difference to us ! " 

" Not a dam bit — our hearts is bustin'." 

" You are right, Mr. Smith. Now to- 
morrow you must ride to the mining camp 
and see if you can get tidings of Mr. 
Johnson." 

" And leave you folks alone? " 

" Yes." 

" There may be Injuns 'round." 

" Well, put us all in the cave and wall 
it up with big stones as you did once 
with father — the cave would probably 
escape detection, you said? " 

414 



Z^c fcegocg. 

"Prob'ly, and you could shoot if it 
comes to worst? " 

" I think so — but go — go to-morrow ! " 

" I can ride it in a day with the Pinto. 
It will kill him, but I'll do it ! " 

At day-light the next morning Pete 
shook hands laughingly with his three 
charges ; the laugh was hardly a success. 
They crawled into the cave. He walled 
them up with great bowlders and pieces 
of ledge, piling rock on rock. Then he 
barred the gate, scaled the wall, and 
coatless, wearing only shirt, trousers and 
moccasins, with a handkerchief around 
his head, and a derringer in his pocket, 
he rode away. Instead of the heavy 
saddle he used only a light blanket. He 
sent his horse off on a slow trot. After 
two miles this was exchanged for a lope, 
which meant eight miles an hour. But 
part of the road was very rocky and this 
had to be walked to lessen the risk of 
pitching headlong down the ravine that 
lay yawning, hungry and threatening be- 
low the pass. 

415 



In the cave it was pitch dark. 

" We will pretend it's night and all go 
to sleep," said Celeste. 

But sleep was vain. Then they sat 
holding hands, and the young woman 
told stories and talked of their plans and 
what they would do when they got home. 
But the old man only spoke in mono- 
syllables. By striking matches they could 
*;ee the time by a watch, but Pete had 
advised them to be sparing of matches, 
as their burning contaminated the air. 

They ate dinner, or tried to, there in 
the inky blackness. 

The air was growing dense, so they 
took turns in lying close up to a tiny 
crevice where a little fresh air came in 
between the stones. 

The dragging hours wore slowly past. 
Celeste struck a match. It marked five 
o'clock by the watch. Mrs. Wilson was 
crying. 

'* Oh, to think of it ! I, a college pro- 
fessor's wife, locked up in a hole, I said 
locked up in a hole ! " 

416 



t^c Eesac^. 

The daughter tried to comfort her. 

" We are smothering ! oh, oh, oh, and 
if we don't smother we shall starve, or 
worse — the Indians will kill us — I heard 
them shoot ! " 

Then the old man began to moan, and 
there in that dolorous blackness the brave 
young woman sought to soothe her father 
and mother. She was as tender and true 
as Douglas and as brave as Deborah. 

" Never mind, Mr. Smith will be back 
soon." 

" There, did I not tell you, they are 
shooting ! " 

'jliis time there was no mistake — 
Celeste too heard the dull echoing boom, 
or else her senses had played her false ! 

1 hen there was shouting and answering, 
echoing yells. 

Another match was struck — it was only 
ten minutes past five, and at the very 
least, it would be four hours before the 
guide could come. 

Another shot was fired, this time near 
the cave. 

417 



« 

Celeste felt in the dark for the rifle 
and tried to remember the instructions 
that Pete had so minutely given her about 
how to shoot. 

The tramp of feet was heard, the neigh 
of a horse, a rolling and tumbling of 
stones. 

The Indians had discovered the freshly 
covered cave and were clearing away the 
debris. Mrs. Wilson held her breath, 
and then gave a wild, ringing, frantic 
scream. In that scream the last flicker- 
ing spark of hope was quenched. 

" Don't be afraid — I am no enemy," 
came a voice from the outside. 

"It is Mr. Johnson — Mr. Johnson ! " 
spoke Celeste. 

A flat ledge of rock was pulled aside 
and a flood of light and air rushed in on 
the prisoners. Through the aperture 
Celeste Wilson thrust out her hand in 
greeting to the man whom she saw. He 
took the dainty fingers in his own firm 
grasp and kissed them reverently. 

One more strong push, a pull, and the 

418 



entrance was cleared. In an instant 
Celeste was outside and was held close to 
the throbbing heart of the big manly 
youth. At least, I think this is what 
occurred, although I was not there. 

Mrs. Wilson had fainted. Johnson 
crawled into the cave to lift her out. 

Back in a corner crouched the old 
man. Both hands were moving rapidly : 
his cheeks were puffed out with the exer- 
tion : ch, ch, ch, ch, ch, chuka, chuka, 
chuka, chuka, chuka, chuka, chuka, ding 
dong, ding dong — who'o'o'o'o 



419 



IV. 



THAT night a beacon light was 
burned out on the mesa. Rattle- 
snake Pete saw it ten miles away. 
He eased the Pinto down from a lope 
to a fox trot. In two hours he fired his 
derringer as a signal of his approach. 

He leaped from the horse and as he 
slipped the bridle he remarked : " Wall, 
Johnsing, I hope you mailed yer letter ! " 



420 



V. 

JOHNSON'S return meant sunrise and 
a clear sky after a night of terror. 
It was a jolly breakfast party that 
gathered around the big flat rock the 
next morning. 

" I'd got about to the end of my 
lariat ! " confessed Pete. 

Even the old Professor brightened up 
a bit and half smiled as he listened to 
Johnson's account of the reception and 
banquet. 

" Did that Wendell make a speech, I 
said did that Barrett Wendell make a 
speech? " asked Mrs. Wilson. 

**Yes." 

" Pm surprised — he could hardly strug- 
gle through a lecture, sitting at a table, 
reading it." 

" But he spoke vv-ell, and so did Agassiz 
and Copeland and James. The chair of 

421 



Biology has been endowed ; Professor Wil- 
son is to have his old place and be Pro- 
fessor Emeritus and I'm to be Assistant." 
" Whar do I come in? " growled Pete. 
" No one thinks of you and me," 
answered Celeste with a smile, " pass the 
biscuit ! " 

" We'll start a deestrick school of our 
own." 

" And if you do, I'll resign my post 
and enter as a student," said Johnson. 

Then the conversation took a more 
serious turn, and Mr. Johnson explained 
that the Curator and Trustees of the 
Peabody Museum were very anxious to 
secure as varied an assortment of the an- 
cient pottery as possible ; and to this end 
it was very necessary, that the mounds 
should all be thoroughly explored. 

"And how long will it take?" asked 
Mrs. Wilson. 

" Well a month, anyway." 
" Then you will do your exploring alone. 
My daughter, my husband and myself 
leave this place to-morrow ! " 

422 



Johnson cast a despairing look at 
Celeste, and the young woman started to 
speak — her words were drowned by a 
loud — " whoooo, whoooo, ding, dong, ch, 
ch, ch, ch, chuka, chuka, chuka, chuka." 

The poor old man kept up the nerve- 
wracking commotion for fully ten minutes 
and then stopped from sheer exhaustion. 

" Here, I'll walk him around up on the 
hill — he needs fresh air ! " 

Mrs. Wilson took hold of one arm and 
assisted her husband to stand up. He 
was trembling and deathly pale. But he 
made no resistance and the man and wife 
moved off slowly toward the hilltop. 

Pete was going to follow, but Johnson 
beckoned him back. 

" What shall we do? " asked Johnson 
of Celeste. 

Both Pete and Johnson stood awaiting 
the young woman's reply— it was for her 
to decide. 

" We had better go to-morrow. You 
can take us to a place of safety, and then 
you and Mr. Smith can come back and 

423 



continue the explorations of the mounds." 

The hearts of these three were heavy. 
They walked silently up the canyon. 
Suddenly there came a wild, piercing 
scream — the frantic, frenzied, agonizing 
scream of a woman. At a bound John- 
son had left his two companions behind. 
He reached the hill-top. 

Off to the left he saw the two bears roll- 
ing and tumbling over each other in 
rollicking fun. About two hundred feet 
away was Mrs. Wilson, still screaming 
and walking backward, shaking her apron 
with both hands as if to shoo the bears 
away. 

Between the woman and the bears 
stood the old Professor, first looking 
toward the frolicking animals, then at his 
wife. He stood irresolute as if question- 
ing which way to go. 

Suddenly he cried : " Hold, Maria, I 
will not let them hurt you ! hold, 1 say ! 
you are backing toward the cliff ! " 

His voice was loud and clear and in it 
was the ring of sanity. Johnson was 

424 



$5e £egac^. 

running toward the woman. Before he 
could reach her the old man had rushed 
forward and seized her by the shoulders. 
They were on the very brink of the preci- 
pice. The woman threw her arms 
around the old man's neck and drew him 
toward her, as if to get him away from 
the danger that she saw threatening him. 

They poised a second — tottered — and 
Johnson, a single instant too late, stopped 
and covered his face with his hands ! 

Pete and Miss Wilson had reached the 
top of the pass, and the scout's quick eye 
saw the bears. 

He pulled the woman back down the 
canyon and leaving her ran to the cave 
for his rifle, A moment after two quick 
shots rang out and Antony and Cleopatra 
were writhing in their death throes. 

'' I don't see the old folks ! " said Pete, 
turning slowly around, shading his eyes 
and looking in every direction. 

Johnson pointed to the precipice. He 
put his arm around the young woman 
and tenderly led her away, 

425 n It 



The morning sun was shining bright 
and resplendent : his rays reflecting 
white gleams of almost blinding light 
from the sheen and shimmer of miles on 
miles of white alkali dust and glistening 
mica. The snow-capped peaks of the 
distant mountains lifted themselves against 
the blue of the cloudless sky. The Holy 
Cross stood out like a gigantic etching ; 
not a breath of breeze was to be^felt. 
The great silence was supreme. No stir 
of life was seen, save a buzzard that came 
circling out of the azure nothingness of 
the south — balancing on outstretched 
pinions — nearer, nearer. 



426 



VI. 

THAT afternoon two deep graves 
were dug side by side on the top 
of the Last Stand. 

The two men gently and tenderly car- 
ried the bodies of Professor Wilson and 
his wife from the place where they had 
fallen to the hill-top. Death had been 
instantaneous. Evidently they had seized 
each other in close embrace as they 
toppled over the brink, and had struck 
head downwards on the rocks, seventy 
feet below. So soon does rest and the 
great silence follow life. 

At sun-down, the two bodies, wrapped 
in blankets, were lowered into one grave. 

In the other grave were placed the 
bodies of the two bears. 

The earth was shoveled in, and above 
these two graves was piled a pyramid of 
stones. 

427 



Night was settling down ; the vermeil 
glow of sunset had faded out of the 
western sky. To the east could be 
seen the rim of the rising moon. 

Slowly, sorrowfully, side by side, the 
young man and the young woman started 
down the pass. Behind, perhaps ten 
feet, came Rattlesnake Pete. 

" Jine ban's ! " called Pete in a voice 
of command. 

Mechanically the woman's hand went 
blindly feeling out in the dark. John- 
son's grasp stole firmly but gently over it. 

Again the scout sjx)ke : " Joshua 
Johnsing, do you now solemnly promise 
to take this woman for your true and law- 
ful wife?" 

Johnson glanced toward the woman's 
face. It was too dark to see her features, 
but he felt the answer in the mild pressure 
of her hand. 

" I do," answered Johnson. 

"And you, Celesty Wilson, do you 
promise now to take this man as your 
lawful husbun' ? " 

428 



t^e feegocg. 

" I do ! " came the low but sure reply, 
" Then I pronounce you man and 
wife — and may God have mercy on your 
souls ! I'm a Justice of the Peace ; I 
am, that's what I am, and my commission 
doesn't 'spire until noon on the twentieth 
day of next October, Gee, I forgot to 
look after them burros ! " 

Pete dashed past the bride and groom 
and left them alone together, there in the 
shadows of the dreamful night. 



429 



VII. 

IT was rather undignified, to be sure — 
all three down on hands and knees, 
crawling through a tunnel that led 
into the bear caves ! 

Pete was first, behind him crawled Mr. 
Johnson and then came Mr. Johnson's 
charming and trustful little wife. 

" What in tarnashun ! " exclaimed 
Pete. 

The procession suddenly stopped. 

<* What is it, Joshua? " asked the lady 
with a little feminine tremulo. 

"I don't know, my dear; Pete has 
found something? " 

"Is it alive?" 

" Yes, didn't you hear it squeal? " 

" Oh my, let us go back ! " 

" Not yet, it will have to eat me first ! " 

*' Yes, but I don't want you to be eaten 
up ; let us go back." 

430 



" Wall, I'll be jumped up, rolled over 
and tossed in a blanket ! Come quick, 
both on you — light a match, Johnsing ! " 

Mr. Johnson proceeded to light a 
match. 

" What are they? " asked Mrs. John- 
son, as she emerged into the cave and 
gazed by the flickering light at a little 
black heap in the corner. 

" Ladies' muffs ! " answered Pete. And 
surely they did look Hke muffs ; six of 
them — squealing, nosing, hungry — six 
bear cubs ! 

" Well, well, it is a great start If the 
caves keep on in this way it will be a rich 
find," said Johnson. 

Mrs. Johnson had been duly installed 
secretary, with orders to make an exact 
hst of all specimens or relics that were 
found in the caves. 

Her first entry read as follows : One 
half dozen baby bears. 

" Milk is what the beggars want," said 
Pete, " but be'ans as we haven't got no 
cow, we'll give 'em soup." 

431 



Fresh antelope meat was plentiful, and 
the cubs soon took their consomme like 
kittens lapping milk from a saucer. After 
three days the fact of their orphanage 
never seemed to occur to them. 

The caves contained rich spoils in way 
of pottery, beads and implements. But 
the relics of a lost people were all deeply 
imbedded in a cumulose of dust and dirt. 
In fact several of the caves were so full 
of this debris that the entrance from the 
ledge was completely blocked. All of 
the refuse had to be removed, and tons 
of it was carried up to the top for careful 
examination. 

Pete made several journeys to the 
mining camp after supplies. On his first 
trip, after that quick ride, he carried a 
letter directed to President Eliot from 
Mr. Johnson, informing that gentleman 
of the death of Professor and Mrs. Wil- 
son. A letter was also sent to the Curator 
of the Museum asking his advice as to 
transporting the Indian skeletons that 
had been found . 

432 



On the guide's second trip to Tabor's 
Roost he found at the post office various 
communications from the college digni- 
taries. Included in these was a set of 
resolutions passed at a meeting of the 
Faculty, deploring the death of Professor 
Wilson and expressing high praise for his 
services is behalf of the University and in 
the interests of science. 

There was also a commission as Assist- 
ant Professor of Biology made out in the 
name of Joshua Johnson. With this was 
a letter from the Bursar to the effect that 
" the salary of the Assistant Professor of 
Biology stands to the credit of Professor 
Joshua Johnson for the six months past, 
and may be drawn at any time." 

A foot note made the matter plain — 
the Faculty had assumed that Professor 
Johnson's time for the past six months 
had been used for the benefit of Harvard 
University. Then there came a long and 
badly written letter from the Curator 
of the Museum. Curators are atrocious 
penmen. 

433 



The present writer has this letter now 
before him, but it contains such a very 
large number of big words that nobody 
exactly understands, that it would be tire- 
some to give it complete. Suffice it to 
say that the good people of the Museum 
were very thankful for the new acquisi- 
tion that they were soon to get. And is 
not gratitude a lively sense of pleasure on 
account of favors about to be received? 
The Curator gave a list ot certain scien- 
tific connecting links that he was very 
anxious Professor Johnson should secure. 
Some of these links have since been 
found, and others have not and never 
will. 

" You had better make your exploration 
complete while you are on the ground," 
wrote the Curator ; " I have had a placet 
passed by the trustees that you are to 
draw your regular salary, even if you 
remain away a year." 

" We will stay a month anyway," inter- 
jected Mrs. Johnson as she read the letter 
aloud to her husband. 

434 



" Yes, my dear, I am sure it will take 
at least a month to clear the caves." 

And it did take a month ; it also took 
two — three ; and after four months had 
passed the work was not yet complete. 
Additional orders and requests came 
from both the Peabody and the Agassiz 
Museums. 

** I think, Joshua, that we had better 
follow the suggestion of the Curator and 
stay a year," said Mrs. Johnson * to her 
husband as they sat around the camp fire 
one night. 

"I was just going to say the same 
thing," replied that worthy gentleman. 

And so they remained — all the time 
hard at work ; varying the routine of duty 
by making little journeys to various points 
of interest within easy reach, up and 
down the valley, and into the heart of 
the mountains. 

Even in the winter the days passed 
pleasantly and profitably. Pete trapped 
a good many wild animals — foxes, minks, 
and even a panther was brought in. 

435 



Mrs. Johnson proved a very diligent sec- 
retary and her record of the work at the 
mounds and caves can now be seen in 
the archives of the Peabody Museum. 
Much of the pottery was broken, and the 
lady's genius in restoring was a constant 
surprise to the two men. 

The great grey wastes were again to be 
seen on the mountain sides ; the little 
stream was again a booming river ; spring 
breezes' and spring flowers and mating 
birds were all coming joyfully back. 

** I b'lieve, t'Lord tJiey are the same 
birds that came here last spring," said 
Pete. 

*' I believe they are," said Professor 
Johnson. 

The railroad had now shoved along its 
rails to a point only ten miles away, and 
the smoke of the engines could be plainly 
seen. 

It took a good many trips back and 
forth to get all of the specimens and lug- 
gage to the railroad. 

And then it took a whole car to hold 

436 



the " plunder," as Pete was pleased to 
call the accumulations that had been 
gathered in the interests of science. 

In the manifest were two mounted 
grizzly bears, several antelope, a mountain 
lion, three panthers, besides many "in- 
secks," which term included foxes, minks, 
prairie dogs, rabbits and various birds. 
In way of live-stock there were six live 
bears, all of a size, muzzled, and in cages 
made of cottonwood poles ; two burros 
and a Pinto stallion — all these were billed 
through to Cambridge. 

A young man was found who was for- 
merly from the East, and was now very 
anxious to get back. He was recom- 
mended as trustworthy, so was allowed 
to ride in the freight car in charge of the 
stock, with a fervent prayer that the 
bears would not get loose. 

A last tearful farewell was taken of the 
Last Stand, and the little party rode 
away in a spring wagon that had come to 
take them to the railroad station. 

Professor Johnson, his wife and Mr. 

437 



Peter Smith were ticketed through, first- 
class, to Boston, which is in the State of 
Massachusetts. 

" A sleepin' kyar, is it? "said Pete, 
" wall, it's a blame queer coop, but I 
ain't goin' to desert you now — I said I'd 
stick by you, Johnsing, and 1 will." 



43S 



VHI. 

IF you journey through Colorado, 
Kansas and Nebraska on a passenger 
train, wearing chaparejos, a flannel 
shirt and a big white sombrero, you will 
not attract any special attention. If you 
carry a baby, you will : at least you would 
have, a few years ago. 

The baby that Rattlesnake Pete carried 
was only a little bit of a baby, but it 
drew much attention to itself, quite out 
of all proportion to its size. And yet a 
good old lady on the train protested that 
it was a big baby, seein' as how it was 
only just two months old. 

" That's all it air, Missus, 'swelp me— 
I wouldn't deceive you — why should I? " 
protested Pete. 

" Let me hold it for you ! " 

"Wall, I guess not, this kind wants 
good keer, the best babbies are skeerce— 

439 



I'm lookin' after this kid myself!" 

*' What's the baby's name," asked the 
conductor, shaking his punch before the 
little round face — " tootsy, wootsy, smilee, 
smilee, catchee, catchee, catchee — what's 
the baby's name? " 

" It's name air Pete — after me. Little 
Pete we calls him for short — ain't he a 
rouser? Them's his father and mother — 
third seat from the back. Never mind, 
Johnsing, we're all right ! See 'um smile, 
will you? " 

Rattlesnake Pete was so vain of his 
new charge that he would scarcely give it 
up to the proud and smiling little mother, 
when the biby was hungry. 

Fully fifty times the scout had sudden- 
ly broken out with the exclamation : 
" 'Swelp me t'Lord — we found a heap o' 
curious things around the Last Stand, but 
nothin' that can be spoke in the same 
breath with Little Pete." 

When eastern Nebraska was reached 
the baby did not attract so much atten- 
tion from the passengers ; and going 

440 



through Iowa it was accepted quite as a 
matter of course. 

After crossing the Mississippi river it 
would have been lost to the public were 
it not for a fussy Englishman with mutton 
chop whiskers and a red face, who grew 
fidgety when Little Pete cried, and once 
blurted out "confound that baby." Ac- 
cidentally the bloomin' Britisher said it 
just as the train stopped, so the remark 
was overheard by Pete the Elder. Pete 
the Elder stepped over to where the man 
sat and remarked : 

" Pardner, if you don't like the music 
what the kid makes, 'spose you climb ; 'er 
I may have to give you the grand bounce. 
You can't raise hell here — if you're goin* 
to ride with us you must be peac'ble — 
see^ " 

The man blustered, and then made a 
hasty exit for the front car, where he ex- 
citedly informed the conductor that train 
robbers had possession of the rear coach. 

As Chicago was approached Rattle- 
snake Pete k)st his neutral tint and 

441 



people began to stare at the band of 
rustling rattlesnake tails that was around 
his hat. After Chicago was passed, when 
he walked through the car, all eyes feasted 
on his chaparejos. When the train stop- 
ped, if he stepped out on to the platform, 
small boys surrounded him, and his 
peculiar garb caused quakes of fear, 
wondering awe, or quiet smiles. 

Professor Johnson had telegraphed 
ahead the hour he would arrive in Boston, 
and various good friends and true, were 
at the station to meet the travellers. 

Several women, who had been intimate 
friends of Mrs. Johnson's {nee Wilson), 
were on hand and were having a nice 
little feminine squabble as to who should 
take the baby first. 

" Gracious, goodness ! what an awful 
man," said a sweet thing in dimity. 

Rattlesnake Pete settled the dispute 
by walking off with the infant himself. 
The ladies followed him at a safe distance 
down the long platform. 

" Mercy me 1 Is he a cannibal ? I'd 

442 



$9e £egaci?« 

never trust my baby with a man like 
that!" 

" But you have no baby," came the re- 
tort courteous. Carriages were taken 
direct to the comfortable little house in 
Appian Way, 

The next day Professor Johnson gave 
his first lecture in Massachusetts Hall 
on " Recent discoveries in Archaeology." 
The room was packed, and at the second 
lecture the crowd was so dense that the 
rest of the lectures in the course were 
given at Sander's Theatre. 

Meanwhile Pete was busy transferring 
the specimens to Peabody Museum, He 
occasionally took a ride on the piebald 
pinto, and in the meantime was making 
fast friends with " the boys." The inten- 
tion was to secure him for a mascot, and 
all the time Orange John pulled at his 
■*' County Galways " and sneered in 
jealous rage. 

But peace was made when Rattlesnake 
Pete presented John with one of the bur- 
ros j and as all Harvard men know, that 

443 



burro is to this day doing loyal duty by 
drawing a light wagon with a white top, 
on the side of which there is a crimson 
H. Long may the burro bray 1 

Every afternoon Pete pushed a peram- 
bulator over through College Yard and out 
North Avenue, past the Soldiers' monu- 
ment. He made good friends with 
several white-capped nurse girls ; but he 
would swear with many quite unnecessary 
oaths that Little Pete was a smarter child 
than any of the competitors — the finest 
kid that ever woke the echoes with a 
yowl I 

But trouble was in store for Rattlesnake 
Pete, as it is for all of us. It began when 
he shot an insulator from a telegraph 
pole, just for fun. Professor Johnson 
paid the five dollars fine and duly 
cautioned the offender. But the next 
day when the scout rode the Pinto stal- 
lion into Divinity Hall during a lecture, 
just because the boys dared him to do it, 
the matter was reported to the Dean, 
and the Dean sent a long communication 

444 



to Professor Johnson, chiding him for 
importing such " a specimen." The Dean 
even hinted that " this man called Snake " 
would be all right if pickled in the 
museum, but at large he was a menace to 
the well being of the school. There was 
no vacancy for mascots just then. 

Perhaps the real fact was that the 
Dean, like Orange John, was jealous of 
the attention that the Rattlesnake was 
receiving from the students. But the 
decisive difficulty came when Pete went 
over to Boston one day. 

" I was on George Wash' ton street," 
he explained to Professor and Mrs. John- 
son, " an' there was the biggest stampede 
of folks you ever seed — they was rushin' 
an' pushin' an' crowdin' — all of 'em ram, 
jam, dam, slam, stark, starin' crazy — goin' 
every way. Some pikin' cross the street, 
and some back and down and over an' 
cross ! I saw a big feller in brass buttons, 
like a color sargeant, tryin' to keep 'em 
from killin' 'emselves as they rushed over. 
I got over to him, and says I, * Here 

445 



pard, give me your stick and I'll help you 
head the steers off.' 

" He up and looked at me and gived 
me a punch with the end of his club, and 
says, *go on you farmer, you're blockin' 
de way.' I reached for my gun and it 
was mighty lucky for him I didn't have it. 
So I just up and smacked him across the 
mouth. A dozen student fellers got 
around us, an' 'fore I could hit him again 
they pushed him one way and hustled 
me t'other. Then they rushed me into a 
little room back of a gin mill, where they 
kept me till dark, when they brought me 
over here. It's no place here for folks 
to live — too much raisin' blazes — no 
chance to breathe — every one clar off 
his cabase ! Stand it as long as you can, 
Johnsing, and when your head piece be- 
gins to buzz, an' yer ban's gits clammy, 
and you can't sleep o' nights, come and 
bring the Missus and the kid — come to 
God's country and we'll be happy once 
again. You can't make a man o' Little 
Pete here — you can't do it — that's all ! " 

446 



$0e Sesoci?. 

And so Rattlesnake Pete wrung their 
hands, and then he kissed Little Pete as 
the babe lay sleeping and smiling in 
his dreams. And Mrs. Johnson sur- 
prised the simple old scout by pressing 
her Hps to his bronzed and wrinkled 
cheek j he brushed the mist from his 
eyes, and stifled the gulp that was 
threatening to choke him, and rushed off 
to the railroad station. 

And so Rattlesnake Pete went away, 
back to the jack-rabbits and the prairie 
dogs ; back to the cacti and the chaparral ; 
back to the white crowned mountains and 
the great grey plains. 

The morning after the scout departed 
Mrs. Johnson found something wrapped 
in an old newspaper in the baby's cradle. 
She unwrapped the package and some- 
what hastily handed it over to her hus- 
band. It was a Colt's six-shooter. Cut 
in the butt were six notches ; and scratched 
on the barrel in print letters were the 
words : For Little Pete fro7n his lovin 
U7icle, Peter Smith. 

447 



The revolver is now tied up with crim- 
son ribbon and hangs on the wall of 
Professor Johnson's library. 

Little Pete is not so very little now. 
He is nine years old and often teases for 
that six-shooter to play with. 

The Assistant Professor of Biology 
evolved into a Professor several years 
ago. And if you look into the last Har- 
vard Director)' you will see the name : 
JOSHUA JOHNSON, PROFESSOR OF 
ARCTL^':OLOGY, only the name is not 
spelled just that way in the catalogue, but 
that is a small matter. 

Rattlesnake Pete promised to write 
often, when he went away, but only one 
letter has ever come from him, and that 
was nearly four years ago. One bit 
of news in that misspelt missive pos- 
sibly may interest you ; it ran as follows : 
" The railrode has now done ran clean 
up the valley past the Last Stand, only it 
don't go close — not within range of a 
Winchester — it shies off and follers the 
surveyer stakes ezact." 

448 



HERE THEN ENDETH THE 
STORY OF THE LEGACY AS 
m^ WRITTEN BY ELBERT 
HUBBARD AND DONE INTO A 
f; BOOK AT THE ROYCROFT 
PRINTING SHOP THAT IS IN 
EAST AURORA, NEW YORK. 
U. S. A. 



LRbJi-ZZ 



